Homeward Bound
by ThePartyAfterYouLeft
Summary: Sequel to "Flight Pattern." "You make me happy, Olivia," Alex said. "I just want you to know that." It was one of the most important things anyone had ever said to her. Olivia had loved lots of people who made her unhappy, who weren't good for her. To know that she made Alex happy touched her in a place she hadn't known existed. "I love you, Alex," Olivia said.
1. Chapter 1

**-1-**

Olivia Benson had, so far, spent her Friday morning suffused in a warm glow that was entirely a result of her Thursday night. She had struggled to pull herself away from Alex this morning even to get dressed, much less to head back to her own apartment to get changed for work. Though she briefly contemplated going to work in the same clothes she'd worn the day before in exchange for the 15 extra minutes, she thought better of it. For a bunch of detectives, the guys weren't necessarily observant enough to spot it, but having Rollins around was another story. She'd be sure to notice.

And Olivia couldn't be happier to have spent the night in Alex's bed—would shout it from the rooftops, when the time was right—but right now, she wanted to keep it to herself for just a little while. They hadn't discussed it explicitly, but she knew they were on the same page. Soon, very soon, she'd be willing to write it across the sky over Central Park. But she felt just a little selfish, and just a little protective of this newborn thing, and wanted to hold it close and out of the world's grasping hands.

It was a quiet day in the precinct, no new calls coming in and everyone trying to run down leads by phone, or finish up the week's paperwork. Cragen had spent enough time on her ass over the years over how bad the late paperwork made him look—now that the Commissioner had appointed a panel to comb through files in search of unreported and under-reported crimes, she knew he'd be on the hot seat for any perceived deficiencies in his squad. She'd find plenty of other things to do that would make trouble for him, so she put her head down and filled out DD5's like her life depended on it. God knows her weekend did.

* * *

Amaro was off today, so while that added some paperwork to Olivia's side of their desk, it meant there was one less set of eyes staring at her when her iPhone buzzed about 11 o'clock. Seeing the name and number on the screen, she was smiling before she even answered the call.

"Benson."

"I love you, _Benson_."

Olivia knew she was blushing, just as she knew that blush would have been noted and dissected if Nick were here, or if everyone else weren't so wrapped up in their own files. She'd never before been so grateful for paperwork. "I love you, sweetie. How are you?"

"Perfect. Or, I was, until a delivery guy from Brighten Florist just brought in 2 dozen cream and red tulips."

"And now?"

"I'm beyond perfect. Perfect is fading fast in my rearview mirror."

"I'm glad to hear it, honey. I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Liv." Alex paused, then laughed. "How pathetic are we?"

"Not so pathetic, I think," Olivia replied. "We've waited a long time. I'd say we're entitled."

"Right you are," Alex agreed. "Now that we've established our well-earned mutual state of love-sickness, thank you for the flowers. Tulips. You don't miss a thing, do you?"

"Not where you're concerned. And you're more than welcome. I'd have sent you all of Rotterdam if I'd thought it would fit in your office."

"What do the colors mean?"

"Come on, I'm not making it that easy for you. You've got the internet over there, don't you?"

"Ah, making me work for it. Glad to see some things won't change." They both laughed. "Now, I'm going to hang up, and I'm going to call your desk phone about some work-related matter, and you're going to have to act like you weren't in my bed 6 hours ago."

"You could just tell me about it on this call, you know," Olivia suggested.

"Oh, no, I never mix business with pleasure."

"Never?"

"Okay, maybe sometimes. But not now."

The call ended, and her desk phone rang not a minute later. She answered with a smile. "Benson."

"Cabot. Got that report yet from the Phillips case? I needed it yesterday."

"My, my, Counselor, you are _all_ business on the landline."

"Yes, and don't you forget it, Detective. Better make sure that's done by Monday morning. When I call and ask for it again, I won't want to have to wait." Now, a dial tone signaled the end of the conversation.

The ADA's tone was professional, but there was definitely an undercurrent that suggested Olivia would get that report in, as requested, one way or another.

* * *

The remainder of the day was blessedly unremarkable. Olivia grabbed lunch with Fin. They'd not broached the subject, but their earlier contretemps over Alex was simply ignored, if not forgotten. She'd resisted the urge to go to Hogan Place, have lunch with Alex. She knew that the attorney had lots of work to do, and she didn't want to come on too strong, to overdo anything, though she didn't feel like that was possible.

Olivia was catching tomorrow for most of the day, and guessed that Alex would probably go into the office as well, so it wasn't quite the weekend for them yet, but she knew that Sunday would likely be a day they could spend together, and she was looking forward to it.

Since she was pulling a full day Saturday, she didn't hesitate to leave before 5 when the Captain told her and Rollins to pack it in. She was just locking up files and straightening the desktop, already thinking about stopping by Alex's office, when her desk phone rang. Hoping against hope that it wasn't something that would keep her here, she answered as brusquely as possible.

"SVU, Benson."

"Is this the police?"

She felt sure this was Alex, but after a long day of typing up reports and answering the phone, her brain was tired. She decided to play it safe. "Yes, it is, how can I help you?"

"Is this Sex Crimes?" Now, this was definitely Alex's voice, a little deeper than was normal or even proper, but Alex nonetheless.

"Yes, it is. Can I help you with something, ma'am?"

"I hope so. There's a naked woman in my apartment."

"And I take it that this is unusual?" Olivia was playing along, enjoying this immensely, but wishing she was having this conversation on her mobile so she could head toward Alex's loft now. Instead, she was held to her desk, knowing Alex could say whatever she wanted while Olivia's own responses were necessarily limited.

"It is unusual, especially for this early on a Friday evening."

"Is that so? Is it a problem, this...woman?" She'd almost said _naked_ but was glad she'd bit it back at the last minute. Munch was nosy as hell and sitting four feet away, doing absolutely nothing.

"Well, I suppose so. She seems to be suffering a bit."

"In what way, may I ask?"

There was a moment as the caller pondered her response. "If I had to guess, I'd say she was going through some sort of withdrawal."

Now Olivia was sure she was blushing, and choking back laughter. At the same time, she found herself surprisingly aroused. "Where is she in the apartment, ma'am?"

No hesitation now. "In my bed. By herself."

"I'll send a squad car over right away, then. That sounds like a potentially dangerous situation."

"I don't think a uniformed officer will be able to handle this. I think you'd better send a detective," Alex said. And then she practically purred the rest. "I think there's going to be some investigating to do. Could take all night."

"Well, I'm heading out now. I'll handle it myself."

"I think that sounds like a great idea, Ms. Benson. You sound more than capable."

Olivia hung up the phone, more eager than ever to get out of this squadroom before anything could possibly happen to delay her departure. She stood up quickly, grabbing her jacket and cellphone. "See you tomorrow, Rollins." Then, to Fin and Munch, "You guys have a good weekend, see you Monday."

Fin waved, Rollins called out a goodbye as she tidied up her own desk. Munch, however, said not a word. He had a feeling that Olivia had a secret, and he sat silently, spinning a conspiracy theory far more provocative than those he normally considered.

* * *

Olivia arrived at Alex's building about 20 minutes later and found a parking space surprisingly quickly. The gods were looking out for her. She entered the building, prepared to have the doorman call up to the apartment. He surprised her, though, greeting her as she approached the desk.

"Detective Benson, good evening."

She frantically tried to remember his name. Damn, but Alex was so good with everyone's names, even though all of the doormen Olivia had ever seen here looked quite a bit alike to her. Or, perhaps she was just preoccupied every time she visited. He either didn't notice her memory lapse, or didn't care.

"Ms. Cabot left this for you, said you should go on up." He handed her an envelope.

She made her way to the elevator, opening the heavy cream-colored envelope as the door slid open and she stepped in and pressed 5. Inside was an equally heavy card, with Alex's monogram in dark grey letters on the front. As she pulled it out of the envelope, a key fell out. There was, of course, a note on the card.

_ A key for you. I hope you'll make frequent use of it. _

_ -A._

Olivia smiled, and stepped out on the fifth floor. She arrived at Alex's door, and wondered briefly if she should knock. This new closeness—even the _friends_ closeness, not to mention the _last night_ closeness—was a shock to the system, and she didn't want to ever be an intrusion on Alex's privacy. But tonight, she figured, it would be okay. There was a reason Alex had left the key with Michael—_now_ his name came to her—rather than simply having him call up like normal. She used the key.

The apartment was quiet—she could have heard a pin drop—and even though Alex was nowhere in sight, the place just looked like her, smelled like her perfume. _Felt _like her, even. Olivia called out.

"Ma'am, it's the police. You called?"

"In here, Detective." The bedroom. Of course.

Olivia made her way in, and when she stepped across the threshold she was greeted with a sight that she'd previously only dreamed of. Alex Cabot was naked, lying in the middle of a king-sized bed with dark red sheets undoubtedly made of some hybrid organic cotton grown in rarefied air, harvested for kings and queens and woven by fairytale creatures on some secret island or in a cave halfway up Mt. Everest. Alex didn't surround herself with luxury, but like the Mercedes, she splurged where it mattered. These weren't the sheets they'd slept in last night, Olivia knew, but even with the obvious distractions, she'd noticed how soft those were, and how Alex's bed felt like heaven. Though that was, admittedly, down to more than the linens.

"I've come to take care of your problem. The naked woman." Olivia was a bit lost, wanting to be witty here, and keep this little charade going a bit longer. But she was completely flummoxed by the gorgeous creature in front of her.

"Thanks for coming so quickly. You must have raced over here with the lights and sirens, the whole nine."

Alex's eyes were locked on her, looking her up and down, and she still lingered a bit nervously, just inside the bedroom door.

"Oh, I didn't bring a cruiser over. I didn't think I'd need any backup. I just rode my white horse."

"I hope you left it in the lobby, then. This building doesn't allow pets." And a smile crossed Alex's face. It put Olivia immediately at ease.

She laughed. "Well, that's good to know, for future reference, I mean. Now, you said you were going through some sort of withdrawal. What are your symptoms?"

Now, Alex rose off the bed, and came over to where Olivia was standing, slipping her butter-soft brown leather jacket off of her shoulders and tossing it onto a chair in the corner of the room, watching it land before turning back to the detective.

"Oh, I'm not the naked woman."

"You're not?"

"No, I'm not," Alex replied, and unbuckled Olivia's belt, pulling it from the loops, and then taking her shirt and pants, faster than Olivia could have probably done it on her own. Olivia kicked off her shoes and socks, while Alex pushed the panties down the muscular legs, getting them as far as Olivia's knees before putting her own foot on the elastic and pushing them the rest of the way to the floor. A slight nudge with Alex's knee, and Olivia automatically stepped out of them, one foot at a time. The attorney finished by sliding both hands down from Olivia's shoulders, along the swell of her breasts, and unhooked the clasp in her cleavage, pushing the straps back off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms. Olivia didn't even know how Alex had known it was a front-clasp—she hadn't seemed to take her eyes off of Olivia's since she'd gotten off the bed.

"You're the naked woman I called about, Detective." And Alex stepped forward and put both hands on Olivia's face, kissing her like they'd been apart for years, rather than a workday. This was going to take some getting used to, but Olivia was definitely up for it.

Olivia took over now, backing Alex up toward the bed, pausing when they reached their destination so that Alex could sink onto the bed. Now she straddled her, one knee on the bed beside each of Alex's thighs, her arms around Alex's back, as they kissed, and kissed, and kissed more. Alex's hands wandered up and gently kneaded Olivia's breasts, alternately palming them and then running her thumbs lightly over the sensitive nipples. Olivia, for her part, stroked her hands up and down Alex's back, then through her hair, never breaking contact with those lips she'd dreamed about. Everything about this felt good, but neither of them was in a big hurry, it seemed.

* * *

Finally, Alex broke the kiss, taking advantage of their position to lick Olivia's collarbones, and her throat. "This was," she said, pausing to nibble an ear, "the longest day," now she put her hands on Olivia's rear, and pulled her closer, "ever."

Olivia couldn't speak. The languid, relaxed mood was gone, replaced now by an urgent need to feel Alex inside of her. Amazing what those two hands planted firmly on her ass could do. She pushed Alex backward, so that she was lying on the bed, and just stared at her for a long moment from above. A look came across her face, and Alex couldn't quite identify it.

"What is it, babe?"

"Nothing, just memorizing you." Olivia felt odd for saying it, but knew Alex would understand.

"No need for that," Alex replied, and gave Olivia a smile so sweet she felt it spread through her, calming her, claiming her. Alex reached up, with both hands, and pulled Olivia down toward her. When their faces were only a few inches apart, she spoke again. "I'm not going anywhere."

And Olivia was consumed again with desire. She lowered her lips onto Alex's and kissed her, thoroughly and with intent.

Alex, for her part, was wasting no more time. Her left hand went back to Olivia's ass, and grabbed hold, while her right snaked down Olivia's torso, stopping to give a pinch to a nipple that elicited a gasp from the brunette. She continued her path, down torso, then thigh, finally slipping between her legs. Olivia lifted her hips a bit, conscious of the hand on her behind trying to get—and hold—her into the position Alex wanted. But she wanted Alex's hand inside her, and rising just a bit on her knees, she gave her all the room she'd need to slide those long fingers into the velvety wetness there. Alex obliged, adding two fingers, then three, enthralled by the beautiful woman above her, moving now in rhythm. The position was perfect for Alex—her feet on the floor at the foot of the bed gave her leverage to move Olivia up and down with her thighs, or to spread her legs a bit wider by shifting Alex's own knees outward. This view of Olivia, riding her fingers, one hand behind her on Alex's left knee, the other subconsciously kneading her own nipple, pinching and rubbing, was so goddamned hot that Alex felt sure she would come before she could bring Olivia off.

She tried to pace things a bit, deliberately keeping her fingers from curling inside Olivia, avoiding the hyper-sensitive spot inside, removing her thumb from Olivia's clit. She didn't want to stop her, but she wanted to drag this out a bit, enjoy every minute of this sublime madness. She could see that her hesitation was having the desired effect: Olivia was still on the edge, but floating along now, not hurtling toward her release. She looked down at Alex now, really seeing her there, and seemed to realize that she was grasping and pulling at her own breast, and that Alex was watching her intently, mouth slightly open, tongue repeatedly wetting her lips.

Just seconds before, she'd been about to protest the slowed pace, to reach down there and move Alex's hand back to where she wanted it, but now, she decided to hold herself here, knowing she was close to orgasm, but wanting to put it off just a moment or two longer. "Alex?"

Alex looked up from the haze of endorphins, and the effort it took for her to shift her focus from Olivia's chest to her face was obvious. When their eyes met again, she responded with the only word she could recall. "Liv?"

"See something you like, babe?"

"Oh, God, yes." Alex's response was verbal, but just barely. It was half-moan, too, and the sound of her voice coupled with the look on her face was a huge turn-on for Olivia, and focusing on her partner's eyes somehow helped her to stave off her orgasm for just a while longer, while she played this out.

"Tell me."

"What?" Alex asked. She was lost, confused by Olivia's command, and began to move her hand again, planting her thumb directly on Olivia's clit as she did so. This earned her a gasp from the brunette, but Olivia recovered quickly from the frisson of pleasure that had just shot through her. She reached down and stilled Alex's hand, but kept her own hand working on her nipples, shifting now from one breast to the other.

"Tell me," Olivia repeated. "Tell me what you see, what you like." She didn't know where this had come from. For someone who was assertive—even aggressive—in her work, she was normally surprisingly quiet in bed. But Alex brought something out in her, and she wondered if she could do the same for the blonde. She waited.

Alex searched for words—Olivia could almost see wheels turning inside that beautiful head—and Olivia could feel her trying to move her hand, trying to reach her goal, even as she struggled to articulate a response to Olivia's unexpected question.

"I see you." It was all she could say at first.

"Yes, baby, but you've seen me a million times," Olivia replied, her voice gentle and quiet, patient. "What are you seeing _right now_?"

"Your nipples," Alex replied, and now it all came out in a rush. "Your fingers are on your own tits, and watching you pinch and pull at them, watching you turn yourself on, is so fucking sexy I can't stand it. I'm going to come just watching you."

Olivia exhaled, She hadn't realized she was even holding her breath. How could Alex do this to her? She'd had sex with women, and men—was hardly a blushing virgin—but my God, this woman had already wrapped the detective around her little finger. She didn't want to wait much longer now. She let go of Alex's hand, but the stroking movement didn't resume quite yet. "Someday, soon, I'll put on a show for you, baby." Somehow, Alex's eyes dilated a bit more at this promise, but Olivia wasn't done. "But not now," she continued, and leaned back a bit, pulling Alex up to a sitting position. "Now, I want you to make me come."

Alex's eyes were even with Olivia's chest, and she watched as the brunette took both of her own hands, and pinched each nipple, hard, twisting a bit. As she let go of the left nipple, she reached out and pulled Alex's head toward her breast, tangling her hand in the blonde hair. Alex did moan, now, her pleasure obvious as she took Olivia's taut skin and straining nipple into her mouth, while her left hand resumed its kneading of gluteal muscles, and the right began a new and impatient rhythm inside Olivia.

This wouldn't take long. Olivia was beyond aroused, and the combined efforts of Alex's hot mouth and her surprisingly strong hands was going to send her flying in no time at all. She continued to pinch her own right nipple, and her left hand gripped Alex's shoulder now, hanging on for dear life. Three fingers of Alex's hand were buried inside her, pumping against her walls while the thumb kept up a rat-a-tat-tat rhythm on her distended clit. Alex sensed she was close, and slid one hand around, just brushing the soft skin around Olivia's rear opening, not providing any real pressure but stimulating that sensitive skin. Less than five seconds after that touch, Olivia's back arched, and Alex's mouth continued to stimulate the nipple while she slowed her hand, allowing Olivia to ride out an orgasm that had surprised them both with its depth and duration.

* * *

At last, Alex disengaged her mouth from Olivia's breast, and looked up to see Olivia coming slowly back down to earth. She slipped her fingers free, and wrapped both arms around the waist in front of her, resting her own head on Olivia's chest. As their breathing returned to normal, Olivia leaned back, and tipped Alex's face up, and said, "Hey."

"Hey," Alex said. "How..." She didn't get any more words out, before Olivia kissed her, deep and slow.

Finally, the detective came up for air, and all she could say was "Holy fuck, Alex."

Alex laughed. "Holy, huh? That good?"

"Well, normally I'd just say _wow_, but that doesn't even begin to touch what just happened here."

"I'm glad you liked it," Alex said. She was, suddenly, just a bit shy, and Olivia felt her stomach flip over a bit.

"Enough with the false modesty," Olivia teased. "You've got the magic touch, sweetheart. But now, I'm feeling a bit competitive." She pushed Alex back onto the bed again, and leaned over her, a hand planted on the bed on either side of Alex's head, careful not to tangle in her honey-blonde hair. "I want to show you what I can do."

Olivia flipped over onto her back, and pulled Alex atop her, then quickly down into a heated kiss. Olivia set about proving her prowess to her partner a few times, even though her skills were never in doubt. But Alex didn't stop her, and thoroughly enjoyed every moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**-2-**

An hour later, lying wrapped in Alex's sheets and a happiness so complete it seemed impossible, both women were relaxed and content. The warm apartment had left them sweaty, and they'd lain next to one another for a few minutes, fingers entwined, nearly silent. As their bodies cooled, they'd shifted closer to one another and pulled the sheet up around them. Now, with early-evening gloom pressing against the bedroom windows, they were talking about everything and nothing.

"How was your day, babe?"

"Surprisingly easy," Olivia answered. "Amaro was off, not a single call-out today, just catching up on reports."

"Sounds lovely," Alex said. "Of course, our professional lives have clearly set a low bar for _lovely_. "

"There is that," Olivia agreed. "And, it just means that Rollins and I will be hammered tomorrow. That's always how it goes. What are you up to tomorrow?"

"Witness prep for the Stern case, a few pretrial motions, including one for Phillips..."

"Hence your need for my DD5 on that," Olivia interrupted.

"Yes," Alex agreed, then rolled over onto Olivia, draping one leg over the detective's thigh, and letting her long hair fall over Liv's collarbones and around her face. She lowered her face and kissed her lover, before leaning over and putting her mouth next to her ear. She didn't speak for a few seconds, letting her warm breath sensitize the minuscule hairs along the dips and swirls of the cartilage. Then she carefully ran her tongue—just the tip—around the outside of the ear, earning a shiver from Olivia, before she whispered, "So, can I have the report tomorrow morning, since you're working?"

Olivia yelped in disbelief. "Alex Cabot, you scheming, conniving little..."

"Hey, you better watch what comes out of that mouth, if you want anything to go into it anytime soon!"

Olivia laughed now, and pulled the beautiful face close to her, applying a soft, sweet kiss to the full, pink lips. "Lawyer," she whispered. "That's all I was going to say. Lawyer."

"Uh-huh, sure it was," Alex laughed, too. "But, nice recovery, so I'll forgive you your impure thoughts."

"My impure thoughts?" Olivia tried for a note of incredulity, of righteous anger, but failed miserably. "You're the one who used your body—your magnificent, unbelievable body—to get a report out of me."

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Alex said, a coy smile on her face. "But, did it work?"

"Yes, of course it did," Olivia replied. "It'll be in your email by 10 am."

"Oh you're so good," Alex cooed. "I knew I could count on you. Now, there is one more thing I need."

"What now, my queen?"

"I'm hungry," Alex said, and jumped up off of Olivia and out of the bed. "Come on and feed me, Liv. You set a precedent last night, but it could all go off the rails"—she snapped her fingers—"like _that_."

* * *

They had dinner at Mamoun's, with Olivia treating and getting more than her money's worth as Alex tucked into a kefta kebab pita, occasionally licking the side of her hands as the tahini sauce dripped out of the pita.

She stopped briefly when she felt Olivia's eyes on her, rather than on her own dinner.

"What?" The look on her face was adorable. "Don't you like your food?"

"No, it's great," she replied. "Just watching you. Seemed like you were enjoying it."

"Oh, Liv, it's delicious," she confirmed. "Thank you for dinner."

"You're a cheap date, Cabot."

Now a huge smile lit up Alex's face. "I'm worth every penny," she preened.

Olivia couldn't disagree with that. She turned her attention back to her food—she was behind now, and she knew as soon as Alex finished she'd want to jump up and head out. She hated to just be still.

After a couple of minutes, Alex was done and making good use of the copious napkins Liv had acquired for her, while watching the brunette finish her own meal. "You don't have to hurry, babe."

"Sure, you _say_ that, but if I don't keep up I'll be chasing you down the street while you go off in search of something sugary or gooey or over-caffeinated."

"Not tonight," Alex said. "This did the trick. I've got to get some sleep—I'm making up for last night."

"Sorry about that," Olivia smiled sheepishly, after swallowing her last bite of shawarma.

"I'm sure as hell not," Alex said, and grabbed Olivia's hand. "But if I want to get anything done tomorrow, and leave my Sunday free, I'll need to sleep tonight and get in there bright and early tomorrow."

Olivia felt a sudden reluctance: to speak, to get up from this little table in this restaurant, to break whatever spell she was under. She sensed that Alex needed some alone time, maybe, and the thought occurred to her again that she needed to play this with patience, maybe a little bit of reserve, so as not to overwhelm her with need.

"Spill it," Alex said, and then, before Olivia could ask anything, or say anything, or claim she'd been wrapped up in thoughts of work or a to-do list or groceries, the blonde continued. "I know you're worrying over something. Better not be me."

"What do you mean?" Olivia tried, hard, not to show how affected she was by the thought that she could touch Alex, kiss her, right now if she wanted to.

"You're thinking about something...but I don't know what," Alex continued. "What I _do_ know is that you look a little uncertain, and even though I find it very cute, you'd better not be having _any_ uncertainties about me."

"No, just thinking about the evening...about everything, really. And we have to work tomorrow. And how I need to get you home so you can get some rest."

"What you _need_ to do is buy me one of those delicious-looking mambrumehs in the case up front, then walk me home so I can get some clothes, and take me back to your place," Alex summarized. "_Then_, I'll get some rest."

Olivia felt a weight lift off of her. Alex had taken her at her word last night—maybe it really _was_ going to be this easy. She'd been worried over smothering Alex, overstaying her welcome, negotiating those moments when one of you was craving togetherness when the other was ready to just be alone for a bit. Meanwhile, Alex had only been thinking of dessert, and getting clean clothes so they could spend the night together. She smiled. "Have I told you that I love you?"

"You have," Alex said. "And I plan to let you continue telling me, for as long as you're willing."

* * *

And with that, they got up, paid and retrieved the honey-covered pastry Alex was craving, and headed back to the loft on Mercer. It was a beautiful night...it had hovered around 45° all day and Alex loved bundling up in her light wool peacoat, holding onto Olivia's leather-clad arm as they walked the the half-mile home, down Astor Place and past Tisch on Broadway. They were both quiet, relaxed, watching people as they strolled.

"You make me happy, Olivia," she said, as they turned onto Washington Place. "I just want you to know that."

Olivia stopped short, turning toward Alex and gathering her up in a huge hug, knowing that this simple statement was one of the most important things anyone had ever said to her, including all of Alex's _I love you_s so far. Olivia had spent far too much time loving people who made her unhappy, who weren't good for her. To know that she made Alex happy touched her in a place she hadn't known existed.

"I love you, Alex," Olivia said. "I want to make you happy. You deserve it."

They continued on to the loft, gathered up Alex's things for Saturday, and drove the short way to Olivia's building. Welcoming Alex into her home, and her bed, in the now-changed landscape of their relationship, was a moment she didn't want to forget. They sat for a while on the couch, eating the mambrumeh and sharing a small glass of milk. Then they brushed their teeth, and washed up, before sliding into bed. Tired, sated in every way, they were drowsy much earlier than either of them would normally even be turning out the bedside lamp.

Alex mumbled something just as Olivia was about to drop off.

"What was that, sweetie?" Olivia's own voice sounded far-away, sedated.

"Everlasting love. That's what the flowers meant. That's what this means." And Alex rolled over, put her hand on Olivia's stomach, and they both fell asleep with the smallest of smiles on their lips.

* * *

Saturday passed slowly but uneventfully. Olivia had the Phillips file in Alex's inbox well before 10 am, as promised, and among the many calls she fielded that day were two from the attorney. One, on the desk phone, to thank her for the report, and promise her a reward commensurate with her effort. The other, on her iPhone, to ask about her plans for the rest of the weekend.

"We didn't discuss it this morning," Alex said shyly. "Want to do anything tonight? Or tomorrow? Or both?"

"I do," Olivia replied, "but..."

"But you're busy," Alex supplied. "That's fine."

"No, honey, I'm not busy. A few errands to run, but if you don't mind coming along..."

"Okay," Alex replied, the momentary shyness gone. "But what was the _but_?"

"I don't want to crowd you, Alex, or to overdo this."

"I don't think you can, Liv," came the answer. "We've got a lot of time to make up for."

"You'll tell me if..."

Alex cut her off again. "I'll tell you. _If_. And you'll tell me _if_. But from here, I can't see when that day's going to come."

"Okay," Olivia said. The less the better, or she knew she might cry, and Rollins had stuff to deal with that was more important than Olivia having a mental breakdown here in the squadroom. "Okay, honey."

"Alright, then," Alex replied. "It's settled. Go home after work, I'll go home, and you'll call me so we can make plans."

Olivia hung up shortly thereafter, and caught Rollins's eye as she tried to return her attention to the desk, and the work still piled on it.

"Everything okay, Olivia?"

"Yeah, better than okay actually," she answered. "Thanks." It felt good to say that and to really mean it, for once.

* * *

The day wound down, and Olivia called Alex when she got home. She was getting better at following instructions, Alex was pleased to note. They made plans to get together at Alex's, to spend the night and think about how they'd while away their Sunday, that rare day off that Alex got nearly every week, but which Olivia was never guaranteed.

Alex was relaxing into this brave new world rather easier than she'd expected. But she knew it would be over sooner rather than later, knew the smooth-as-glass surface they were sailing on would be kicked up with whitecaps as soon as she shared her secret. And that would probably have to be on Sunday, but for tonight, she'd take the last peace she was likely to get.

Their Saturday night was, in fact, peaceful. Which wasn't to say there wasn't a little bit of struggle, of wrestling for the upper hand, but only in the best way. Their lovemaking was hot, fierce. Olivia struggled to keep her emotions at bay and not overwhelm Alex with the depth of her feelings, while for her part the ADA knew that exposing herself emotionally would lead to her sharing her news sooner than she'd planned. The evening passed in an erotic haze. Both women slept as well as they had in years.

* * *

Sunday dawned cloudy, but a little warmer. Alex woke up to the smell of bacon, and French toast. She threw on her yoga pants and a sweatshirt she found on Olivia's pile of clothes, and wandered down the steps into the kitchen. She padded in, quietly, and wrapped her arms around the brunette chef making herself at home in the kitchen.

"You surprised me," Olivia said, recovering quickly from the shock of the chilly fingers that had snaked under her shirt. "I didn't even hear you."

" The metal stairs." Alex gave away her own secret, while nuzzling Olivia's neck. "Something smells delicious."

"Thanks," Olivia answered, turning in her embrace to kiss her nose, then her mouth.

"Breakfast, too," Alex laughed, and poured coffee for herself, then topped off Olivia's mug as well. She went downstairs to get the Times, and came back to sit down on a stool at the countertop looking into the kitchen. She opened the paper, but her mind wasn't on it, and for a long moment she just held it open in front of her, but peered over it at the sight of Olivia cutting up strawberries for the French toast.

Olivia felt eyes on her, and turned around. "Whatcha lookin' at, Blondie?" This got a laugh out of Alex.

"Is that your impression of a New York City cabbie, babe, or a grizzled old beat cop?"

"Neither," Olivia answered. "Or both. Don't know, I get my stereotypes confused this early in the day." With that, she whirled around and put two plates on the bartop, then turned to grab two glasses of orange juice to go with them.

Alex reached down, and handed her the extra stool around the end of the counter, so Olivia could sit opposite her to eat. "Is this mascarpone cheese in this French toast, Detective?" Alex contemplated the piece of bread on her fork.

"That it is, Counselor."

She stopped contemplating and ate, closing her eyes in sheer bliss. "You are spoiling me, Liv. What if I get used to it?"

Olivia fixed her with a gaze that was suddenly serious and wholly sincere. "I hope you do," she said. "I want you to get used to lots of things."

Alex didn't know how to answer. She, too, was feeling like every emotion she had was just beneath the surface, in danger of spilling out at the slightest provocation. Or, perhaps, no provocation at all. Olivia saved them both with a joke.

"Except on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday," she smiled. "You most definitely should _not_ get used to it on those days. Because it's all I can do to get coffee going on a work day, and I pray on the way to work that one of my esteemed colleagues will have improved their own karma by bringing me a donut or a bagel."

They ate a while longer, sharing the paper, reading bits to one another—this was a special treat for them both, as Olivia'd somehow always managed to find smart people who didn't care about the news, while Alex found people who cared so much that they weren't willing to have any bits read aloud to them.

After breakfast, they curled up on the couch to finish the sections they were reading, and as Alex got up to recycle the paper when they were done, Olivia stretched, her shirt riding up her torso, her toes curling just like they did when she was...

"What to you want to do today?" Alex's lascivious musings were interrupted by Olivia's question, and she looked over at the grinning face. "Besides the obvious, I mean."

It was now or never, Alex decided. She had to tell Olivia now about the promotion, or they'd be back in bed before she knew it and the opportunity would be lost. "We need to talk."

Olivia ended her lazy stretch immediately; in fact, she almost did whatever would be the opposite of stretching, coiling in her limbs, hunching her back a bit, getting as small as she probably could in the corner of Alex's sofa. She was already preparing for the worst. Alex wasn't sure if she was getting the worst, because she had no idea how Olivia would take this.

"This sounds major," Olivia said. She was wary now, looking at Alex's hands, her hair, her ears, anywhere but her eyes.

"Funny you should say that," Alex answered. Maybe if she made a joke of it...but Olivia's face told her jokes weren't the way to go. The detective looked like she might throw up, or bolt out of here. Alex sat down next to her on the couch, scooted close, took both hands in her own. "I've been offered Major Case."

No answer from Olivia, just stunned silence.

"It's a Bureau Chief position, which I admit does concern me. I didn't do such a good job at that last time. But it's a huge opportunity, and hard to pass up." Still not a word from Olivia. But she was still here, still sitting, feet now tucked in a cross-legged pose, marshaling every self-protective instinct she had. But still here, not yelling, not leaving. It had to count for something.

"Come on, Olivia."

"Come on what?" Uh-oh.

"Say something," Alex begged. "Anything! Laugh, cry, tell me it'll never work, that I'm a shitty prosecutor, doomed to fail."

"You're a wonderful prosecutor, the best," Olivia said. "You'll do great."

"Thanks," Alex said, feeling like that wasn't the most effusive praise she'd ever received, but certainly better than a sharp stick in the eye. "Is that all you have to say?"

"Good luck?" It wasn't a statement. It was a question, sort of. "I should have known it was too good to be true."

"What was?" Alex asked.

"Just...having you. Back at SVU. All of it."

"_All of it_ isn't having me back at SVU, Liv. That's part of it, but not the be-all and end-all of _this_." She gestured between them, not sure yet what to call it besides _this_, and _love_. And what more did it need to be called, anyway?

Olivia stood up, started toward the kitchen, then seemed to think better of it and headed to the stairs, toward the bedroom. Alex knew she was leaving, gathering her things, putting on her clothes. She had badly judged Olivia's low-volume response as a positive sign, when it was clearly anything but. She called out as Olvia reached the top step.

"Where are you going, babe?"

"I just need..." Olivia turned and looked at her. "Just maybe a few minutes, if you don't mind."

* * *

Alex didn't—couldn't—answer. Instead, she waited, reasoning that she had always been good at waiting for Olivia. Was an old hand at it, in fact. The detective hadn't been upstairs more than five minutes when Alex heard a phone announce an incoming call. The ringtone was a crackling radio line, with a voice saying "911. What is your emergency?" She knew that was Liv's ring for Fin, one of the few bits of humor she'd allow herself with respect to her job. She heard her answer, heard the noise that made up one side of a conversation for about 60 seconds. Then she heard rustling around, a minute, two, before Olivia reappeared at the top of the steps dressed, badge clipped on, gun holstered.

She came down and made her way over to Alex, dropping her overnight bag on the floor. "I'm sorry, Alex, that was Fin, he..."

"A call-out."

"Right, rape and murder in Midtown East. Rollins is pretty sick. She didn't feel great yesterday, so if I don't roll out Fin's got to drag her out of her deathbed. I told him I'd go."

"I understand," Alex said, and reached out to grab Olivia's hand, looking up into a face that betrayed as much confusion as she felt herself. And she did understand. The job wasn't just a good thing or a bad thing about Olivia. It _was_ Olivia, and Alex respected that, admired it even. But damn if the timing didn't suck.

"Al, I'm not leaving because of what you said." Olivia wanted to reassure her, but didn't feel very sure of herself.

"I know," Alex replied. Though she wasn't entirely buying that—there seemed a fair chance that Olivia would have taken off sooner rather than later, even without Fin's ill-timed call—but making a big deal of it wasn't Alex's style, and wouldn't do any good anyway.

Olivia gathered up her bag, and seemed anxious to leave, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and back. Finally, she leaned over and kissed Alex, allowing her free hand to trace the fine-boned jawline under porcelain skin, and ending with a caress of thumb over lips. Alex allowed herself to breathe again—she'd been sure she was going to have to beg for a kiss, and couldn't bear the thought of that.

"Think it'll take long?" Alex asked hopefully.

"Not sure, it sounded a little complicated."

"More than normal, you mean."

"Yeah, more than normal." Olivia chuckled a bit, happy that Alex understood this part of her life. She felt like she'd absorbed a hell of a blow with Alex's announcement, but wanted to keep hold of this thing between them, if she could. She hoped it wasn't over so soon. "I am sorry to have to go. Can I call you when I get done?"

"You'd better," Alex said. "Don't make me come looking for you."

Olivia smiled, kissed Alex briefly once more, and let herself out the door. Alex suddenly wished someone would call her away, to do anything, anywhere else.


	3. Chapter 3

**-3-**

Olivia drove to the scene—she hadn't been ready for Fin to pick her up at Alex's, especially considering the timing of his call. She pulled up outside the townhouse on Sutton Place and let out a low whistle as she climbed out of the Mustang. Fin joined her by the front fender, joining her in looking up at their surroundings.

"Sorry to drag you out on your day off," Fin said. "Enough money here to make this a real pain in the ass."

"You got that right," Olivia agreed. Everyone knew this little enclave was a society unto itself, swimming in cash both old and new. "What's the story?"

He gestured at the house now wreathed in yellow crime-scene tape and surrounded by squad cars. Number 19 was an imposing 5-story building. "Owned by Henrik Flaade, a trader with NorgeBank. Two kids, 17-year-old boy away at Andover, 14-year-old girl lives here full-time, enrolled at Dalton."

"Mrs. Flaade?" Olivia asked.

"Mrs. Flaade—the third Mrs. Flaade, to be more precise—is our victim. Raped, strangled, found by her stepson this morning when he got home from staying over at a friend's house. Back on spring break, blowing off some steam with the guys, he says. Mr. Flaade, and his daughter, are out of the country until tonight, visiting his parents in Oslo. Shall we?"

"Lead the way," Olivia said. She began asking questions, floating ideas as they walked. "Husband and daughter's alibis are easy enough to verify. How about the stepson?"

"Not so easy, but not impossible," Fin confirmed. They'd walked into the massive foyer by now, and Fin gestured to his left. "He's in there with the uni who arrived on scene first. They secured the scene, ME arrived, first sign of sexual assault she called us."

"Any motive for the stepson to do this?" Olivia asked.

"Nothin' specific," Fin said. "The usual evil stepmother shit, but don't know of any particular trouble so far."

"You talk to the kid yet?"

"No, not yet, wanna now?"

Olivia considered, and shook her head no. "Let's go see the scene first. Let young Mr. Flaade sit and stew in it."

* * *

While the teenager sat awkwardly in the Louis XVI chair in the formal living room—Olivia could see him through the door, slouching, his artfully torn jeans and faded t-shirt at odds with the ornate décor and delicate lines of the furniture—she walked with Fin up to the sitting room a floor above, where the body had been found.

"This place..." she began.

"No shit," Fin agreed, "little fancy for raising teenagers." The sitting room was slightly less formal, but things were incongruous here for a far more horrifying reason. Melinda Warner was kneeling over the body of Shannon Flaade, who was lying on the floor. There were no clothes on the body, and the wrists were bound behind her back with a red stretchy band of some sort. The ligature marks around her neck were vivid and raw-looking, her eyes still open. Melinda caught Olivia's eye, which had again wandered to the object wrapped around the delicate wrists of the victim.

"Physical therapy," Warner said.

"Sorry, what?" Olivia replied, looking like she'd been caught with her mind elsewhere.

"The red band," Melinda elaborated. "The type they use for all kinds of PT—stretching, resistance, the uses are endless."

"Apparently," Olivia said wryly. "I take it that's a common thing."

"Unfortunately," Melinda said. "Common thing, common brand, even a common color. The colors represent the amount of resistance in the material. Red and blue are the most common."

"Of course," Fin said.

Melinda filled them in on what she knew so far: approximate time of death, and the like. They left her to finish her work then, telling the uniformed officers they'd be back after the body was removed to continue their investigation. Meanwhile, they split up: Olivia back downstairs to talk to the stepson, Pål, while Fin went to the kitchen to speak to Eusenia, the family's live-in maid.

Getting nowhere with the kid, Olivia told the officers to go upstairs and pack the kid a bag and take him to his mom's house. She'd head over there later to interview him again, and maybe get something out of Flaade's first wife, as well. Flaade and his daughter wouldn't return until 9 pm. She and Fin combed the scene with CSU before stepping outside to compare notes.

"Nothing from the boy," Olivia reported. "Story seems solid, we'll check it out but I don't think it was him. He didn't seem to think she was the best stepmom ever, but I don't get the feeling he killed her."

"Cook says she was out last night—her night off is normally Sunday, but since the whole family had plans, Mrs. Flaade had given her Saturday night too, the first she'd had in months."

"She know what the Mrs. was up to on her own?"

"Wasn't sure, but thinks Mrs. Flaade was having an affair. Or two."

"Great, one or more cuckolding potentials to track down," Olivia said. "She give you anywhere to start?"

"Yeah, and you're gonna love this," Fin said. "Maybe the daughter's piano teacher. Maybe the sommelier who personally consults with her on the wines she buys."

"Jesus," Olivia answered. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. And, don't forget about the personal trainer who made house calls."

"That's it?" Olivia asked. "Not the thoroughbred breeder or the Harry Winston personal shopper or the Bugatti mechanic? Give me something interesting to work with here, Fin."

"Well, there is one thing," Fin said. "The sommelier is female."

"Oh-ho, then, that is interesting," Olivia agreed. "And we can't necessarily rule her out. Evidence of fluids could be from consensual sex. Madame Sommelier could have chanced upon something, figured out Shannon wasn't just cheating on her husband. Can't thank you enough for calling me in on this one, Fin."

"My pleasure," Fin agreed. "Seems pretty certain Mrs. Flaade had a seven-year itch. Maybe one of her lovers did more than just scratch it."

* * *

It was almost 3 pm by the time they left the scene, and split up to start questioning anyone and everyone they could think of. Olivia checked her phone repeatedly as the afternoon wore on, telling herself she was looking for updates from Fin, or Warner, but hoping that she'd see a call or message from Alex, as well. She was disappointed every time, but she knew that Alex knew where she was, and that she was busy. The ADA wasn't clingy, wouldn't be the type to call all day when she knew you were busy, so Olivia could hardly feel slighted by the lack of a call.

She and Fin kept at it until about 6:45, and met up at the precinct to share what amounted to no news, which wasn't good news. They called it quits for the night.

"Sorry to take your day, Liv," Fin said as they walked out of the precinct and toward their cars.

"Couldn't be helped," she replied.

He felt like she wasn't herself, a little beaten up. "You wanna grab a drink, Benson? Day's already shot all to hell."

"Nah," she demurred. "I should..." she trailed off, not knowing what she should do, or would do. "Rain check?"

"You got it. You need anything, call me," he said. "I'll see you in the a.m."

Once in her car, Olivia collapsed a bit, feeling like her skeleton had turned a bit soft and that air was leaking out of her pores, deflating her. She'd fought all day to keep a rigid frame, to stay upright and engaged. Now, she thought about just slinking home to a cold beer and a hot bath. Thought, really, about not calling Alex. She grabbed her phone from her pocket, and noticed a message on the screen. Must have come in while she and Fin were talking outside the precinct.

**Whatever time it is won't be too late, you know.**

She called. She'd told Alex she was all in, and now it was time to put her money where her mouth was. Alex picked up on the first ring, answered with the softest voice, and Olivia felt it wrap around her and caress her like those divine sheets on the bed she'd left this morning.

"Hi, baby," Alex said. "I'm glad you called."

"Thanks for the message."

"Anytime, you know that. Long day for a call-out. Hope you're done for the time being."

"I am," Olivia confirmed. "I was just going to..." _Let your guard down, Benson. Don't shut her out._ "I needed to hear your voice."

"I can do better than that, sweetheart. I'll meet you at your place, if that's okay. I made some soup today. I'll bring it over, feed you dinner, rock you to sleep."

"Oh, Alex, you don't have to do that, really."

"I know. I don't _have_ to do anything. But I want to. I hate the way we left things this morning. I won't sleep if I don't get to see you. Mind if I stay over?"

"Never," Olivia answered her simply, and honestly. No matter what this morning's bombshell meant in terms of any future they might have, Olivia couldn't picture any situation in which she'd miss the chance to sleep next to Alex.

"I hoped you'd say that," Alex laughed. "My bag is packed and the soup is cartoned up and ready to go. I'd have felt pretty stupid if you'd said no."

"You're anything but stupid," the detective said. "See you soon."


	4. Chapter 4

**-4-**

Alex arrived just a minute before Olivia, was waiting on the sidewalk outside the building, a suitbag in one hand and a huge tote in the other, her briefcase strap slung cross-body over her torso.

"Sorry you were waiting." Olivia grabbed the tote, immediately feeling bad for keeping Alex out in the cooling evening air.

"It was only a minute," Alex reassured her. "Not worth worrying about."

"I'll have to get you a key," Olivia said, and Alex felt her heart expand like a balloon.

"Only if you want to, Liv," her answer far more circumspect than her visceral response.

"About this morning, Alex," Olivia started, but didn't know how to finish.

"Inside." Alex put a single finger on Olivia's lips. "Let's go in, relax, heat up some soup. We don't have to talk here on the street. There's time to say whatever you need to say."

* * *

They had dinner, Olivia toasting some French bread she had into crostinis to go with Alex's tomato basil bisque. They ate on the couch, as they had so many times before, this time with Alex's always-cold feet tucked under Olivia's thigh. She hated to wear socks around the house, but had the coldest feet in the known world. They talked a bit about the case, though not in any great detail, Olivia thinking Alex would find all that out soon enough. Then, a little voice in her head said, _Will she? Or will she have jumped ship already?_ She pushed that voice down.

"This soup is fantastic, honey," Olivia said when she was done. Alex beamed, both proud of her cooking skills and thrilled that Olivia had called her _honey_. Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as she'd feared.

"My pleasure. Anything for New York's finest."

After dinner, they cleaned up, and Alex went in to run a bath. "Want to join me?"

"Thanks, but not quite yet."

Alex slipped beneath the water, almost too hot to stand, but it relaxed her, and the steam coming up off the water into the air around her head was comforting. She lay there for a few minutes, so acclimated to the heat that she turned on the hot tap again the moment the water cooled just a few degrees. She heard a light knock on the door, and the knob turned. The door pushed in just a few inches, revealing one outstretched hand with a glass of bourbon.

"Can I come in?"

"After you've teased me with that bourbon, you not only _can_, you must," Alex answered. Was Olivia going to come to her, to initiate this conversation? She didn't want to hold her breath. Olivia slipped in, closing the door behind her and handed Alex the glass, keeping an identical one for herself.

"You going to get in, babe?"

"No, I don't think so," the brunette replied. "But can I sit with you?" She gestured toward the small stool at the end of the tub.

"Of course you can. I'd love it."

Olivia pulled the stool over, carefully removing Alex's folded towel and her glasses, setting them on the toilet lid. She sat, facing Alex, left elbow propped on the edge of the tub, holding her glass, while her right hand reached out to Alex's arm. "Sweetie, your skin is so red." She dipped her fingers in the water. "Al, honey, this is really hot. Aren't you burning up?"

"No, I'm fine, really," Alex answered. "It feels good." She grabbed Olivia's hand, though, while she had the chance.

Olivia took a sip of her drink, and a deep breath. "Can we talk, Alex? About this morning?"

"Of course we can," the blonde answered. "I'm sorry to have sprung that on you. I just couldn't think of a way to ease into that."

"No, I'm sorry, Alex," Olivia replied. "I overreacted. You told me your news—it's big news, and I should have just been happy for you—but I just saw this miraculous window that we had just opened, and it was closing up right in front of me."

"But it's not," Alex argued. "Nothing is closing up. If I decide to do this..."

"If?"

"Yeah, if. I have to let them know by Tuesday, when the DA gets back from a conference in Chicago." Comprehension dawned, slowly, and Alex turned a bit to face Olivia. "You thought I'd already taken it? That it was a _fait accompli_?"

"Well, yeah, I did," Olivia admitted. "I mean, I thought it in English, not French, but I thought you were saying it was a done deal. And I just panicked. I saw everything we'd waited for slipping through our fingers."

"Oh, baby, no. No, no, no," Alex said, and she felt beyond bad that she hadn't made that clear earlier. "I know I've made decisions before that kept us from getting close. Now that we...I wouldn't do that again, Liv. The DA met with me on the 7th, asked me to consider the move. I told him I'd need some time, and that worked out fine for him. The spot won't even open up for another six weeks or so, and he was headed out of town for vacation and then a conference. I bought myself some time. Bought us some time."

"Us?"

"Us. I didn't know—I went up to Connecticut the next day, you know, and talked to my uncle about all of it."

"_All_ of it?"

"Yes, actually. I told him about the offer—well, he told me first, since Branch had already gossiped about it to him—and we talked about you, and SVU, and I told him I had no idea what to do. How could I decide if I should take the job or not, when everything I felt for you was just sitting there? I didn't know if I could tell you everything, and I knew that taking the job would change things. But I couldn't know yet if that was bad, or good."

"And then you came home from Connecticut, and..."

"And we talked, and fought, and talked, and..."

"And here we are," Olivia finished. "So, one thing's resolved but the other is up in the air."

"Is it?" Alex asked. "Resolved, I mean?"

Olivia leaned over and kissed the upturned face, damp from the steam in the room; she pulled away, briefly, only to go back for one more kiss. Finally, she spoke. "Yes, one thing is resolved. I wasn't sure this morning, and I know I reacted badly. My favorite sport is jumping to conclusions, and I'm very good at it."

Alex responded to Olivia's cockeyed grin with a small laugh, but didn't speak, didn't want to interrupt this train of thought.

"I thought all sorts of things—you were doing this to put space between us, you'd known this and had misled me these past few days—but while I was out on the call with Fin today when I should have been here with you, I missed you. And I realized I didn't much care."

"I wouldn't do anything to get away from you, Olivia," Alex said, holding the detective's free hand with her own. "Though, when things seemed to be off the rails a bit with us last week, I was even more torn, thinking maybe it would be better not to see you all the time. But now, it's all different."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet. What do you think?"

"Well, it would be a step toward your ultimate goals—DA, Governor, maybe even the Senate, right?"

"I..." Alex trailed off, lost in thought.

"What is it, honey?"

It was still sometimes hard for Alex to admit, even to herself, that those goals might have changed. "I'm not sure that's what I want anymore," she finally replied. "I used to want those things, want them desperately, but I think I wanted them for the wrong reasons. I wanted them for who I would _be_, not for what I could _do."_

"There's no shame in that, Alex. You _have_ changed, you've seen and done more than most people ever will, and it's affected you. I'm proud of you, all you've come through, all the good you've done, here and in Africa."

"You've never said that before, Liv."

"Haven't I?" Now Olivia was a bit embarrassed. Of course she'd been proud of Alex, always. But had she really never told her? She took the drink from Alex's hand, and set it with her own on the sink. She took Alex's hands, and helped her stand up and step out onto the fluffy rug by the tub, before wrapping her in a huge, dark brown towel.

Finally, she stopped moving about, and rested her hands lightly on Alex's hips, looking straight into her blue eyes. "I'm proud of you, Alex Cabot. I'm proud of who you are, and of everything you do, and how you always think of yourself last and everyone else first. And I'll be proud of whatever you decide to do."

"Whatever I decide to do?" Alex repeated. She was unexpectedly moved by Olivia's little speech, didn't trust herself to say that out loud without tears.

"Well, maybe anything but clown college," Olivia said. "But, yeah, pretty much whatever else you can come up with. Besides, I don't think the shoes for clown college are exactly up your alley, unless Manolo Blahnik has some side business I'm unaware of."

* * *

They laughed, and Olivia opened the bathroom door onto the bedroom. She grabbed their drinks while Alex pulled her pajamas from her overnight bag, and lay down on the bed to watch her dress, and towel her hair, and brush it out. Despite all of the emotions they'd cycled through in the past couple of weeks—hell, the past couple of days, even—Olivia felt sure that these mundane moments were the most real, and were what really let her believe that all this was happening.

She'd made love to Alex once, years ago, and countless times both before and since in her dreams. She'd

known and imagined her kisses, and the touch of her hands. But she'd never imagined this: Alex's nightly routine (the face wash was clear with blue flecks, and foamed up, while the toothbrush was a battery-powered deal that looked like it could strip varnish off the floor); the fact that her long hair had tangles, just near the bottom, and that she hated to comb them through; that she always took a glass of ice water to bed, but hardly had more than a sip of it, and wouldn't drink it when it was room temperature.

This was all the stuff of real life, and a real person who was at this moment here in Olivia's bedroom, and not in her imagination. And she was glad she'd never attempted to create this alternate reality in her mind before, not because these details were dull compared to the feel of Alex's skin or the sound of her voice when she came, but because it was these minute details—_these very moments—_that make up a life together, and if she'd imagined it and couldn't have it, or had it and lost it, it might have broken her into a million pieces.

These were like the details they held back from the media on a case, so that when they got the confession, they knew it was real. A million people could probably spin a tale from whole cloth of a night with Alex Cabot, simply from seeing her, admiring her beauty and fantasizing about her body. But when Olivia's confession came, she'd have the details that would back it up: Colgate toothpaste, right side of the bed, no nightlight, too-bright alarm clock turned toward the wall, no-pulp orange juice, kept on the door of the fridge, never on the shelf. She knew as surely as she knew her own name that those things she could list off were only a start, and that she wouldn't mind spending a lifetime amassing an encyclopedic knowledge of everything Alex.

* * *

When Alex returned from the bathroom, hair combed, face washed, she took her drink from Olivia's hand and replace it with her own fingers, and sat down on the bed.

"Hi, babe."

"Hey," Olivia said, lazily. Why did she always feel lately that she was in a waking dream? "So, tell me all about this job offer."

"Well, running Major Case, it's obviously a big deal. I'd have thought any promotion coming my way would have been Bureau Chief at SVU, that maybe Mike would move over to Major."

"You're certainly qualified for it, but that is unusual, right? Leapfrogging Cutter like that?"

"Yes, but I don't know _why_ they're doing it, didn't think to ask and I can't really talk to Mike because I don't know what he knows yet," Alex explained. "But I do think it's political. I mean, everything is, but the Mayor was chiding me during those meetings in the fall about why I hadn't held out for higher-profile slot when I got back from Africa."

"He's a snake," Olivia opined.

"That he is," Alex agreed. "And I'm sure, with him, it's a case of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. Neither my dad nor my uncle were ever huge fans of his and I know he has his own people he'd like to see in the DA's chair, and succeeding him in Gracie Mansion. He probably assumes that I'm still pointed in that direction myself, and in that case it certainly behooves him to keep tabs on me."

"I assumed you were still pointed in that direction, Alex," Olivia confessed. "I guess that's why I put my foot in my mouth that day in your office, telling you I'd keep your _secret_. I know things are changing, but I'd just thought you would probably keep things behind closed doors to make life easier."

"Well, God knows I wouldn't be the only New York politician making my back-room deals from a walk-in closet. But no, after I came back, and made the mistake of getting involved with Robert, I knew that I was going to live my life. Granted, I'll probably never take out a full-page ad in the _Times_, but I decided I wouldn't duck any direct questions, either. If there had ever been anyone to answer questions about, of course."

"So, if your uncertainty about taking this job, and by extension, about the future it could represent...if that _isn't_ about your private life, what is it about?"

Alex thought for a moment, not sure how to say it. She'd been trying to articulate it for a while to herself, had wanted to try to explain it to her uncle, but came up short each time. "Africa changed me, Liv. SVU changed me, my time in Witness Protection changed me. I craved power before, but I don't know that I'd have done the right things with it if I had it."

Olivia nodded. "Munch is fond of saying _absolute power corrupts absolutely_."

"I know. He's said it in my presence on more than one occasion so I'm not entirely sure he isn't trying to tell me something," Alex laughed. "And my dad loved that saying, as well, believed it with all his heart. I think I do too, now."

"It doesn't have to, you know."

"I think you're right. And that's why I've taken so long to come to any decision on this offer—I've been examining my motives inside and out. Taking this would put me on a path that I'd have to work to get off of. There's a trajectory, and saying _no_ to this would be telling the power brokers in this city that I'm saying _no_ to everything that comes after. They don't understand things like _I'm not sure, _or _maybe in a couple of years_. "

"You have to take it, then," Olivia said. "You just said it yourself; you can get off that merry-go-round later if you want to, even though it'll be hard, but once it starts and you've turned down a spot, you won't be able to catch up and get back on."

"I just feel like I'd kind of vanquished that ambitious streak. I mean, I always want to do well, to do right by the victims, but getting ahead for the sake of getting ahead didn't appeal to me any longer."

"Until?" Olivia asked.

"Until what?" Alex looked at her.

"That sentence wasn't complete, honey," Olivia explained. "I've listened to you for twelve years—fights, theories, interrogations, plea bargains, summations—and I _know_ the end of a forceful sentence. That one wasn't. There was something left off. So, until what?"

Alex looked at her, and saw someone who was astonishingly smart and even more perceptive. "You think it's hard to pull one over on a lawyer, Liv, you should try to deal with a detective. You're worse than my therapist."

"Well, am I right?"

"Yeah, you are," Alex said. "And you know it kills me to say that, so enjoy it." Olivia's smile said she was enjoying it, very much. Alex was up now, off the bed and pacing. "I just realized that getting on that train doesn't have to end at the DA's chair or the governor's mansion or the Senate or anywhere else, unless I want it to. But what I can do, if I'm willing to play the game and amass a little power, set aside some markers to call in later, is change things. Atlanta has a bureau now that just prosecutes crimes against women. New York has a human trafficking bureau. I could take those things, plus a million other ideas, and really make a dent in things here. I could change things for a lot of women."

"Your passion is showing, Cabot," Olivia said. And Alex stopped and looked at her, not sure quite what that meant, until she saw the huge smile on the detective's face.

"I'm a little fired up, huh?" Alex chuckled.

Olivia jumped up and stood in front of her. "You are. And I love it. I'd vote for you anytime, anywhere, for anything, but if you never decide to run for office you still have a million great things you can do. And you _can_ do them, I have no doubt."

"Won't you miss me at SVU?" Alex asked. She knew this decision was made, but had to make sure Olivia was okay with it.

"Turns out, I miss you when you're just in the kitchen," Olivia said, "so don't let that hold you back." They both laughed, before Olivia continued.

"Yeah, of course I'll miss you, Alex, but we can't ignore the fact that working together might have raised some issues for us down the road, if anything was called into question."

"I know," Alex said. "But I did come back to SVU by choice, and I will miss it, and working with all of you. It's my home, really."

"It's not your only home," Olivia said, quietly.

Alex stepped to her and wrapped her up in a gentle hug. "It isn't," she agreed. "You are my home. And maybe I'm ready now to leave that nest and try to fly a bit."

"So, you've been pondering this decision since the 7th, you said?" Olivia was putting pieces together, and Alex didn't like it. "Since we kissed, and then you blew me off and then we..."

"Yes." That was all Alex said, wanting to avoid the question she knew would come next.

"What would you have done if you and I hadn't..."

"I don't know," Alex said, firmly. "And now, I don't have to know. I was torn—if you'd not felt the same way I felt, I might not want to see you every day, but if I left SVU then, with everything going on between us, you'd have thought I was running away, and we might never have gotten a chance at this. So, in short, I had no idea what in hell I was going to do, probably wouldn't have known until it came out of my mouth in the DA's office on Tuesday afternoon."

Olivia just smiled. "I'm glad I'll never know the answer to that question, then."


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

That night, Alex was up for something a little different. They'd both thought it would be a night for cuddling, and sleep, but coming so easily to an understanding about Alex's future, and what it meant for _their _ future, had been an unexpected aphrodisiac. Alex was barely in her pajamas, before Liv had her back out of them. Olivia had jumped in for a quick shower, while Alex set the alarm, got the ever-present glass of water, plugged in the phones. Even in a state of existential bliss, she'd not be likely to forgo a ritual or neglect a routine.

They'd been lying on the bed for a while, talking about vacations and beaches and things that were far away from the grey cold outside. Kisses that had been soft and sweet became lingering and hungry, meandering touches growing a bit more intentional, when Alex whispered in Olivia's ear.

"Do you have any toys?"

"Toys?" Olivia asked. "What do you have in mind?"

Alex hesitated.

"It's okay, babe, tell me," Olivia urged. "There's nothing you can say that won't be okay."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked. "I mean, I've been with people who've taken offense, you know, _aren't I enough for you?" _

"Al, whatever you _want_ is what's _enough_ for you. Sounds like you have a craving. Tell me what you're thinking of?"

"A harness, and a dildo."

"Oh, that's easy. Do you want to wear it, or shall I?"

Alex's lips were parted, her breath coming a little faster now. "I don't care," she breathed. "On me or in me, I don't care. I just want to be face-to-face with you, to hold you and see your eyes when we come."

"I can do that," Olivia said. "I'll be right back."

She returned a minute later from the closet, holding a black dildo and matching leather harness. "Will this do the trick, sweetie?"

Alex licked her lips, nodded, but no words came out. Olivia went on. She'd do all the talking if she had to. "Okay," she said. "I'll put this on then, if you don't mind. I want to sit you in my lap, feel your nails on my back, and your tongue in my mouth." Another nod. Alex was either stricken mute, or she was very, very turned on. Olivia was pretty sure which it was, but she knew how to be absolutely certain.

She stood in front of Alex, and stepped into the harness, pulling it up and tightening the straps low on her strong hips. The dildo and the harness it rode in might look menacing, if you didn't have explicit trust in the person standing in front of you. If you hadn't asked for it yourself, licked your lips at the sight of it. Alex heard Olivia's voice, and looked up inquisitively.

"I said, do you think I need any lube?" Alex didn't answer, and Olivia only waited a moment before she reached over with both hands, parting Alex's knees, and then ran two fingers up Alex's slit. Her fingers were coated with moisture, sticky and delicious. She smeared it all over the silicone cock, letting the head of it slide in and out of her fist, right in front of Alex's face. Olivia finally answered herself, as she licked her fingers clean. "I'm pretty sure I don't."

Olivia knew there were a lot of ways she could play this, a million places it could go, but she found it beyond intoxicating that Alex asked for this becasuse she wanted to feel close, and loved. Liv had used this before, had used many toys with many lovers, and usually they had been a way of channeling some aggression, creating some distance, filling a gap on a night when she felt too raw or too exposed to use her mouth or her hands. Ironic, then, that on a night she felt closer to Alex than ever before—closer than she'd felt to _anyone, _really—she'd never been happier to have her hands and her mouth free. Tonight would be about slow, and steady.

* * *

She climbed on the bed, and took both of Alex's hands, putting them slowly and gently above her blonde head, and holding them there. She leaned over and kissed Alex, a slow, deep kiss that she felt in every part of her. She released the hands, and set about maneuvering herself between Alex's knees, feeling both of those gorgeous thighs brushing her own hips, holding her there easily. She was on her knees now, looking directly into Alex's eyes, and stroking her legs, from pelvis to knee to foot, and back again.

"Have I ever told you what these thighs do to me? In those skirts of yours?"

Alex shook her head. "I don't think so. I'd have remembered that conversation, I'm sure."

"Well, then, I'll tell you now. They drive me crazy. The skirt hitches up when you sit, and there's so much leg there it's like I want to call the Guinness Book of World Records to have it measured, while I'm thinking about having them draped over my shoulders, or wrapped around my hips."

Alex obliged, hooking both knees on Liv's hips, draped down over her ass. She could feel the leather straps of the harness on the backs of her calves, and it made her just that little bit wetter. "Like this, you mean?"

"Well, sort of," Olivia smiled. Then she took her hands, and put them on the insides of Alex's knees, and pushed ever so gently outward, spreading those beautiful legs, and then leaning over Alex, supporting her weight on her hands which were planted on the bed on either side of Alex's ribs. "Except in my daydreams, I'm inside you when I feel those legs around me."

Alex reached one hand up, stroking Olivia's face, and bringing her hand down to cup her chin. She ran a thumb over Olivia's lips. "What are you waiting for?"

* * *

Olivia wasn't waiting any longer. She reached down, ran her fingers once more through Alex's folds to be sure she was wet enough. She wasn't disappointed. Then she put a hand lightly on the cock and slid it slowly into Alex, whose only response was a low moan. Olivia could feel Alex's walls grip the toy, and she pushed slowly in as far as she could. She knew already that Alex loved to be filled, as completely as possible. She'd known they'd end up in this spot eventually, but was glad she'd waited for Alex to tell her, to ask for it. Knowing how much she wanted it made the look on her face that much sweeter.

Olivia sat up a bit, hands on Alex's knees, and began to move slowly in and out of her lover, never breaking eye contact. Just looking into those blue eyes was a huge turn-on for her. Alex's mouth was open, her breathing a bit shaky, but there was no doubt she was glad she had made this request, and was getting what she wanted from it. Olivia, for her part, could feel the bumping against her own clit with each stroke, and knew that where this was going would get them both off. But she wasn't in a rush.

She continued to stroke, in and out, and continued to marvel at the intense look on Alex's face. Finally, after a while, she felt what she'd dreamed of: those magnificent thighs tightened around her again, pulling her in, the feet locked against her ass, pinning her in the circle of Alex's endless legs. She leaned forward again, and began kissing Alex while she sped up her thrusts. Alex's hands were all over Olivia, up and down her back, gripping and scratching, just a bit, then running through her hair, grabbing hold occasionally.

When their mouths weren't together, Alex was talking, keeping up a constant stream of whispered encouragement. She felt an emotional release that was just as important to her as the physical one that was coming quickly. "Liv, oh, baby, that feels so good. I love you, I love this. I want you, so much. Please, don't stop." She felt like maybe Olivia would never stop, maybe this could go on forever. As much as she enjoyed Olivia's hands, and mouth, and enjoyed tasting and feeling Liv's body, this _was_ what she had craved tonight. To see Olivia's face, kiss her, feel her strong hands.

She was getting close, and she told Olivia, who slowed her down just a bit with a change to the rhythm, pulling all the way out and then sliding back in, excruciatingly slowly. Just a few times, then she resumed and even increased her previous stroke. One more long, wet kiss, and then she pulled back just a bit, looking right into Alex's eyes. "Come for me, sweetie."

* * *

And Alex did, joined just a moment later by Olivia. It wasn't a screaming, thrashing orgasm, but all the more fulfilling for the quiet intensity of it. She felt as close to Olivia as she'd ever felt to another person. As soon as the last wave subsided, Olivia pulled out slowly and quickly divested herself of the harness, throwing it beside the bed, and pulling Alex into her body so that they were touching from nose to toes.

After a few minutes, and a few more kisses, Alex's voice was satisfied and sexy when she said, "Thanks, Liv."

"Don't thank me, babe, that was amazing. Why were you hesitant to tell me you wanted that? I'd be glad to do that anytime."

"Just...a bad experience or two. Someone who thought that...my wanting that...meant I wasn't gay, that I would prefer to be with a man. It's not that."

"I know it's not. I could tell, actually, that you were happy to be exactly where you were, and it felt incredibly good to be able to give you what you wanted. But if it'll make you feel better, we can turn the whole thing into a gymnastics meet next time."

"I may take you up on that, but this was perfect tonight," Alex chuckled. "You're too good to me."

"Shush. No such thing," Liv replied, and she rolled Alex over, then spooned her from the back. They slept that way for most of the night.

* * *

The week started off in a blur. While Rollins tried to sleep off a nasty case of the flu, Olivia was caught up with Fin on the Flaade case. They were tracking down a lot of moving parts, checking alibis and with each potential suspect cleared, they seemed to find a new one who needed to be checked out. The pair of them ended up crashing in the crib Monday night, taking turns sleeping and sorting through notes, details, leads, looking for the needle in the proverbial haystack.

Alex spoke to Liv a couple of times, but had been able to tell by mid-afternoon that it would be an all-nighter for the detectives, so she headed to her place after work, made some dinner and called her uncle.

"_Hey, Ace, good to hear from you. What's going on?"_

"Well, a lot, Uncle Bill."

"_Do tell. Am I speaking to the EADA for Major Case?"_

"You mean, the latest issue of New York Legal Gossip hasn't hit the newsstands in Branford yet?"

"_Very funny."_

"Actually, I have the meeting with the DA tomorrow. I'm going to accept the job."

"_Well, congratulations, Counselor! You've earned it."_ Alex heard some talking in the background, then heard her uncle say _"She's taking it, Jeanie." _Her aunt called out a congratulations in the background. Alex knew her aunt's pleasure had nothing to do with the fact that this was a promotion and had everything to do with the fact that Alex would be leaving Special Victims. Even though the case that had caused Alex so much heartache was, in the end, a drug case, her aunt would always be of the opinion that SVU was the single most dangerous place for her niece to be.

"Thanks, you guys. I took virtually every minute he gave me to decide, but I'm going to go for it."

"_When we last talked, I was sure you'd be turning it down," _Bill said._ "What happened?"_

"Olivia."

"_Olivia?"_

"Benson. She...happened." Alex felt odd about this, really—should she get Aunt Jean on the phone, let her relay the whole thing? _No, come on, that's ridiculous, Cabot. He's your uncle, he wants you to be happy._ "After I talked to you, I decided to sort of cut off contact with her, limit it to professional interactions, maybe an occasional lunch. I didn't know if that was going to result in me taking the job or not, but I knew I had to have some clarity on that front before I could make a decision on Major Case."

"_So, you decided it'll be easier to not see her every day?"_

"Not exactly. She wasn't willing for that to happen, and here we are."

"_Where's here, exactly?"_

"Well, we're not registered at Saks, but we're giving this a go. I'm going to see her every day, just not at work."

"_Well, Alex, you know I don't delve much into your romantic life—that's your Aunt Jean's area of expertise. But I'm happy for you. I didn't think you'd get up the nerve, to be honest."_

"Uncle Bill!" Alex exclaimed.

"_Oh, don't get me wrong, Ace, you're fearless. In the courtroom. But you're a lot like your dad, and I had to practically force him to ask your mother out after I introduced them. How can I say this politely, Alex? Just like him, you dither when it comes to your personal life."_

"Kate says the same thing," Alex admitted. "And, to be honest, Olivia did sort of force the issue."

"_I always knew I liked Kate," _he said._ "So, let me guess. You were willing to walk away, become Sister Alexandra, the lonely martyr of One Hogan Place."_

"Maybe not _quite _that dramatic," Alex insisted.

"_Sure, Ace," _he said._ "Tell yourself that. Well, I, for one, can't wait to meet this woman. Anyone who can shake you up like this has to be worth at least a dinner. Are you willing to let her meet the family yet?"_

Alex laughed. "Probably," she allowed. "Pretty soon. I was thinking maybe even a whole weekend, if we can manage it. You guys up for some company in the next few weeks?"

"_We'd love it, just name the date," _he said._ "When do you start in Major Case?"_

"It'll be a month, at least," she said. "The office is still occupied for a little while longer, and I'll tie up loose ends at SVU, maybe sneak in a vacation if I can."

"_Well, we're both happy for you. Now, I'm going to go tell your aunt all the details. I'll try to keep her from calling you back tonight for girl talk, but who knows?"_

They said goodbye and hung up, and Alex felt as lucky—and as settled—as she had in a long while.


	6. Chapter 6

**-6-**

On Tuesday, the pieces all came together for Benson and Tutuola. They'd both finally crashed from about 3:30 until 6, when something tickled Olivia's brain, waking her. She went downstairs and re-read a few things, and then woke Fin to run her theory by him.

Alex called briefly at 7, to wish Olivia good morning. She didn't stay on too long—she sensed from the detective's voice that they were on to something. And they were. They'd found the piece of the puzzle that let all the rest fall into place. The case was surprisingly uncomplicated when it came down to it, and when it broke, it all made perfect sense. Despite the fact that only the cook had noticed it, there was trouble in paradise. Mr. Flaade was not eager to pay out a third massive divorce settlement, and hired out the job.

The red elastic band used to strangle the victim was a cute if uninspired attempt to cast aspersions on the trainer, but it was more banal than that, in the end. Flaade found someone to pull off the job, staged it to look like a liquor delivery for a party they'd had planned for that week. Kids out of the house, cook off work, no one around. Looked to be easy, until fingerprints turned up where they shouldn't have. Something wasn't right about the liquor delivery, the timing, the fact that the couple always used a party planner to handle those little details. The perp turned on Flaade in under 10 minutes.

* * *

"Amazin', ain't it, Liv? These people got millions of dollars, wanna scrimp and save on a hitman?" Fin marveled at their good fortune in putting this to bed so quickly. "You get a pro, sure, you pay a bit more, but no fingerprints, no confession. Where he's going won't be anything like Sutton Place."

"You know what they say, Fin," Olivia replied. "That's how the rich stay rich—nickel and dime you to death."

They were leaving the precinct on Tuesday afternoon, amazed that the whole thing had been cracked in just two days. Flaade was barely unpacked from Oslo when they arrested him at his office.

Alex called as they were walking down the stairs.

"Benson."

"_Hi there. Just left the DA's office."_

"How did it go?" Olivia didn't turn away from Fin, or make any attempt to hide the call, but her voice was soft. He noticed the change in tone as much as the change in volume.

"_Fait accompli."_

"If you're going to speak French to me, could you come up with something a little more..."

"_Je ne sais quoi?" _Alex was laughing. _"Oui, I can, and I will. What's going on?"_

"Well, you'll never believe it, but the Fin and Liv Show has ended after a two-day run. We've got not one, but two, people in jail."

"_Amazing,"_ Alex answered. _"Congratulations to you both. How about dinner to celebrate?"_

"Both of us?"

Alex's voice dropped, became instantly seductive. _"If you don't mind Detective Tutuola getting a show, you're more than welcome to bring him along, but you might want to make it known that I _don't _share. It's been on my report cards since kindergarten, and the problem's only gotten worse."_

"Just me, then," Olivia said, quickly, causing Alex to smile.

"_You're too easy, babe. Meet me at Torrisi in an hour. I'll try to keep my hands off you long enough to treat you to dinner."_

"Can do."

"_And Olivia?"_

"Yeah?"

"_Bring your stuff. You're not getting out of my sight tonight."_

* * *

Olivia had stopped at the front fender of her car to finish the call. Fin was parked a few spots down but had stayed nearby until she hung up.

"You're glowin', Benson."

"What are you talking about?"

"You got a look about ya. Getting some?"

Olivia was used to dealing with these men, who could be as protective of her as anything, but would subject her to their locker-room talk with no hesitation. She wouldn't have it any other way, though.

"Not just _some_," Olivia smiled. "I'm getting everything."

"Good for you, Liv," Fin said. "It suits you." He turned and headed on toward his car, and when he was a few feet away he called back to her.

"Tell Cabot I said hi, and she owes me dinner."

She yelled out at him. "Hey, hold up." He stopped, turned with a huge smile on his face. "How?" That was all she could say.

"Jesus, Liv, it's about damn time. You'd have never gotten so pissed at me that day if you weren't drowning in it," he said. "But you're gonna owe me 50 bucks now."

"How do you figure?"

"I got a longstanding bet with Munch, and now I just lost."

"He thought that we..." Olivia had been completely unaware that her crackling chemistry with the ADA had been noticed by anyone but them.

"We _all _thought, sooner or later.. _I_ just made the mistake of taking the _sooner_ part of that bet, so I think you're in for half. You wasted too much time, cost me money," he laughed. "But don't worry. I won't pay up 'til you're ready to come clean. Have a good dinner."

She just stood there as he walked off, shaking her head. She'd gladly pay the $50 if she could ever figure out how to keep a secret from anyone in that damn precinct.

* * *

The next several weeks went by very quickly; Alex had accepted the job in Major Case, and so was frantically trying to tie up loose ends on her SVU cases. The DA's office had formally announced the promotion a week after Alex accepted, and the squad was happy for her, but feeling in a bit of limbo again. At least they'd have Casey this time, and not have to deal with an untested newbie. Making the transition from non-violent crimes, or from homicide, to dealing with live victims was always a hurdle for a new ADA and no-one enjoyed walking them through their first few cases.

Alex would, as expected, have a couple of weeks off before her first day on the new job. And she knew how she wanted to spend it.

"It's time," she said to Olivia one night, as they lay in bed after a bit of fairly athletic sex.

"Alex, Jesus, I can't keep up with you," Olivia said. "We're in our forties, I need just a few minutes to rest."

Alex laughed, a hearty, contagious laugh. "First, _we_ are not in our forties, you are..."

"39," Olivia said. "You're 39, so knock it off."

"Still," Alex said, "That's my _thirties_. But that's not what I meant. It's not time for that, not for 15 more minutes, at least."

"Then what's it time for?"

"Baltimore."

Olivia sat up. "Okay. When?"

"The second week I'm off, I think. I've got some stuff to do the first week, but before I start the job, I want to do this."

"Alright. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am," Alex said. Her voice was firm and unwavering. "A lot has happened, and I'm starting a new chapter. I'm going to close that one, completely."

"Can I come with you?"

"I was hoping you would," Alex said. "You'd mentioned you had some time coming. Is it convenient for you?"

"Actually, I'd already talked to Don about it," Olivia explained. "I wasn't sure what your plans would be but I hoped we might spend a little time together. I guess Baltimore's as good a place as any, right?"

* * *

On Alex's last day at SVU, the Munch had planned a going away party for her at Donagan's. She was going to wrap up things at her office, and meet them all at the pub around five. That morning, Alex had seemed a bit melancholy as she dressed for her last day. As Olivia drank her coffee and waited for Alex to finish getting ready, she realized she'd been so busy she'd forgotten to share the little tidbit Fin had let slip after he'd told her he knew they were an item, and she knew Alex would get a kick out of it.

"Just so you know, babe, the guys had a bet of some sort, about us."

Alex was putting on her makeup. She looked in the mirror, smiling over at Olivia, sitting on the edge of the tub. "Really? A recent bet?"

"Oh, no," Olivia said. "This one has cobwebs on it. Apparently it wasn't a matter of _if_ we'd sleep together, but when."

"That's too delicious for me to even be offended about it," Alex laughed. "Guess they're more perceptive than I'd given them credit for."

"Well, to hear Fin tell it, he had the _sooner_ time window, and John the _later._ Now, Fin's ready to pay up, as soon as we feel like going public."

"Did you tell him about that night, when I was back for the Connors trial?"

"Hell, no," Olivia laughed. "His gambling losses aren't my problem."

"Wonder what Elliot had?" Alex mused.

"Probably the _never_—he thought you were out of my league."

Alex strode over to the tub, and leaned over, planting a memorable kiss on Olivia's lips, then smiled at her. "I love the way you look after I kiss you with fresh lipstick," she laughed. "And, just for the record, Elliot was an idiot. You are _definitely_ in my league."

* * *

Luckily, work didn't keep anyone from the part. It was the umpteenth time Alex had left SVU, but really the first time that circumstances had been appropriate for a party, and the squad was glad to have a chance to send Alex off to Major Case with a fitting goodbye. All of the detectives were there, with Cragen, and Cutter and Novak joined them as well. There was a bit of an impromptu roast, much to Alex's chagrin, and it involved more than a few good-natured jokes about her impenetrable demeanor and demanding nature. Even Brendan, the bartender and witness to more than a few after-hours gatherings of the 1-, got in on the act. Don wound it up on a kind note, though, along with a few humorous jabs of his own.

"You're one of the two best ADAs this squad has ever seen, Alex," he said, raising his glass to both her and Casey. "And we'll miss you. And if you recruit Novak away from us, too, we'll kill you, so get out and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

They all laughed and toasted, and Alex felt a few tears behind her eyes, but kept them there. This was all unexpectedly moving for her. She'd left this group for WitSec, for appeals, for Africa—moving to Major Case was hardly a big deal in comparison. But this time she felt pretty sure she'd never be their ADA again, and that was the hardest part of the whole thing. She enjoyed every minute of the evening with them.

As the party wound down, Olivia noticed Alex stifling a yawn, and she caught her eye across the room.

"_Home?" _she mouthed. The slightest nod told her that Alex was ready to leave, and would need to be rescued from a debate between Amaro and Munch. She sauntered over, her interruption welcomed with grateful looks from Alex and Nick.

"What's the conspiracy _du jour_, John? Nazi moon base or the Bilderberg Group?"

"Neither," Nick answered. "Tupac."

"Well," Olivia said, "that one doesn't get much play. What's the prevailing wisdom?"

"Obviously, he's living on an island somewhere, being visited semi-monthly by his dear friend, Jada Pinkett Smith," Alex supplied, nearly causing Olivia to spit out her drink as she laughed. "He's laying low until the time is right for a comeback. You think the hologram at Coachella was amazing? He's replacing Biden on the Democratic ticket this fall, and just wait until you see him show up as a contestant on _Project Runway_ this season."

Olivia and Nick were laughing so hard there were tears coming out of their eyes, while John just fixed Alex with a look that was somewhere between anger and adoration. The attorney stood up.

"Gentlemen, my two-week vacation from responsibility officially begins tomorrow, but it won't do me any good if I've turned into a pumpkin. I hope you'll excuse me," she said, then gave Olivia a wicked smile. "I think you're going my way, Detective Benson? Share a cab?"

"I'd love to," Olivia replied, and stepped over to the nearby booth to grab their things. She handed Alex her purse, and the light jacket she'd worn, which Alex draped now over her arm.

They said goodnight to the two men, and started to walk toward the door, but Alex put her hand on Liv's arm, stopping her mid-stride. "Hang on just a second, I need to take care of something." She retraced her steps, returning to the table where Munch sat, still wearing a confused expression, and she put a hand on his shoulder.

"John, I forgot to thank you. I know you organized the get-together, and I really appreciate it," she said, and leaned over to hug him. She held the hug just a second longer than one might expect, and whispered in his ear before standing up. "By the way, Detective Tutuola seems to think that he owes you $100 on some kind of bet. Between you and me, that happened a _long _ time ago, so it's really you who should pay up. But I won't tell if you won't."

With that, she raised up to her full height, turned and walked back to Olivia, and leaned over to kiss her—briefly, but unmistakably—on the lips. One last smile to Munch, and they left. For the first time since Amaro had known him, John Munch had absolutely nothing to say.


	7. Chapter 7

**-7-**

During Alex's first weekend off, she and Olivia took a trip up to Branford, heading out the morning after the party. Alex drove, while Olivia fiddled with the satellite radio, and reveled in the sheer joy of being in a car, next to Alex, out of the city and with no work for a couple of days. While it was Alex who was moving to a new job, dealing with a transition, Olivia felt a weight had been lifted from her, too. Alex's goodbye to Munch the night before had been priceless, and Olivia knew that she'd be coming back on Monday to nosy questions from John and varying degrees of curiosity and amazement from the rest of the squad, but she was okay with that.

Alex was no longer their ADA, and as much as she'd relished their fiery professional confrontations over the years, she knew things had to happen this way. Alex was ready for the next step in her career, and Olivia was more than ready to be with Alex without any worries over any conflict of interest or inquiries from that jackass Tucker at IAB.

Alex looked over at her. "You sure you don't mind meeting the family so soon?"

"Soon?" Olivia laughed. "It's been twelve years, Alex."

"You know what I mean," Alex chided her. "It has, but it hasn't, and this seems like a big step."

"Alex, once I had the nerve to admit to _you_ that I love you, admitting it to anyone else is a piece of cake. Your uncle is formidable, I'm sure, but he can't be anything compared to you."

"Well, it's really my aunt you'd have to worry about," Alex said, "but she will love you. So, I'm not worried at all. I just want you to be comfortable."

"They love you, so we have that in common already," Olivia said, and smiled, and all was right in Alex's world.

The weekend was lovely, and both Uncle Bill and Aunt Jean did love Olivia, as Alex had known they would. The two couples enjoyed a gorgeous Saturday on the boat, and a light dinner on the deck. When Jean began clearing the table, Olivia jumped up to help and found herself in the kitchen with Alex's fiercest protector, washing dishes and waiting for a conversation she knew was coming.

"So, Olivia, Alex has told me so much about you, I feel like I've known you for years," Jean began.

"I hope it wasn't all bad," Olivia joked. "Knowing each other for so long, Alex has seen the best and worst of me, I'm afraid."

"She's spoken highly of you," Jean said, and felt she was being a bit circumspect, but didn't want to be heavy-handed. Alex was a grown woman, even if Jean could still see a little girl every time she looked at her. Finally, Jean finished the last plate, and handed it to Olivia to dry while she drained the sink and wiped down the counter. Finished, she turned and looked at the detective in front of her.

"Olivia, maybe Alex is too old for me to be having any conversation about your intentions," she began. "But, she's my niece and I love her like she is my own, and only, child. And she'll kill me if she knows I had this discussion with you, but I do hope you have some idea how very long she's had feelings for you. She's not as tough and unaffected as she'd like everyone to think."

Olivia stopped drying, and put everything down on the counter, looking directly at Jean before speaking.

"I love her. I've loved her nearly the whole time I've known her. And I know we've taken a long time to get where we are, but I can't imagine ever hurting her. It would kill me."

She didn't say anymore. She couldn't, really, if she hoped to maintain any sort of control over her emotions. And there was no more _to_ say, really. That was the entirety of the situation, as far as she was concerned. But she hoped it was the _right_ thing to say. She knew how much Alex loved these people, how they had been her only family and her only support for so long, and on that alone, she knew they had to be wonderful. She was surprised, but beyond pleased, when Jean reached out to her and pulled her into a quick but firm hug.

"That's all I need to know," Jean said. "Now, let's grab dessert and get back out there before she comes in here. She's too smart for her own good."

Alex had noticed they'd been gone a while, knew what was happening because she knew her aunt couldn't possibly let this visit pass without doing whatever she had to do to vet Olivia, and make sure she was somewhere within shouting distance of the impossibly high standards Jean held for anyone who hoped to be close to her niece. But she stayed on the deck, chatting with her uncle, and decided to let it happen. Olivia could more than take care of herself, and she'd hear all about it later, anyway.

That night, in bed, Alex lay on her side, smiling at Olivia. "How did it go, babe?"

"The day?" Olivia asked. "Well, you tell me, do you think I passed inspection?"

"Oh, I know you did, but I didn't mean the day," she explained. "I meant the third degree that I know Aunt Jean gave you after dinner."

Olivia turned to face Alex. "It was fine, I think." She was quiet for a minute before continuing. "I don't really have a family, Alex, so meeting your aunt and uncle is important to me. It means a lot that you would bring me here. I can tell how much you love being with them. I feel closer to you here."

"I'm glad you came," Alex said. "It matters to me that you like them, that they love you, which they do. I knew when I saw the two of you come back outside with dessert that whatever you'd told her had been the right thing."

"I was just honest, told her I'd loved you forever, that I'd never do anything to hurt you. I hope it was enough."

Alex kissed her. "It's more than enough."

Back in the city, Olivia had a week of work ahead of her before their trip to Baltimore. She was busy, working a case with Amaro that was exhausting both of them. She was worried about Nick. He didn't say much, but coming up on a year in SVU, she knew he was still sometimes struggling with the things their victims had gone through. He was pretty sensitive, for a cop, and she knew he sometimes saw the faces of his wife, or his daughter, or his sister, when they interviewed victims.

Their working relationship was a good one, and Olivia was feeling that things had gone as well as they could have for her, getting a new partner after so many years with Elliot. She missed him, still, but dwelling on it hadn't been any help at first and she'd had to just move on. Nick was dealing with some trouble at home, and she worried over him. It wasn't like her, really, but she was okay with it. Things were going so well for her that she felt she had a little happiness to spare, and a little care to give, so she made it known to Nick that she was an ear if he needed anyone to listen.

She'd grown closer to Rollins, as well, and felt like this was her first chance to mentor someone. Amanda was a talented detective, whip-smart and absolutely fearless, but she dealt with all of the same things Olivia did, as a woman on the job. Sex crimes, especially, was a tough row to hoe. They got along well and Liv hoped she could be a help to Rollins without being overbearing.

She missed seeing Alex at work, but seeing Alex at home more than made up for it. They still had two apartments—hadn't discussed getting rid of either of them, and probably wouldn't for a while. But they spent nearly every night together, and that hadn't required too much negotiation. The location was determined by who was where, and working how late, and what the next day held for each of them. They both had stuff strung from one apartment to the other, so it felt like they were living in two homes, not visiting. Olivia's favorite book was now on the shelf at Alex's, and the attorney's favorite DVDs were slowly but inexorably making their way over to Olivia's place, one at a time.

Olivia had wrangled a whole week off in preparation for their visit to Baltimore, but she hadn't told Alex yet. She thought she might surprise her, spirit her away somewhere to decompress after their few time in Maryland. Something told her they'd both need a break, some downtime, after the trip, and she was trying to think of someplace to go.

Having a week off, though, meant that she was hustling all week ahead of the trip to try to wrap up the case she and Nick were on, as well as to make sure that all of her _i_'s were dotted and her _t_'s were crossed on everything else before she could enjoy the time away.

She did manage to grab time away on Wednesday evening for a late dinner with Alex and Kate. They'd bumped into Alex's friend once since they'd begun seeing each other, and Olivia knew that Alex had been happy to break the news to Kate that things were going well for them, but there hadn't been much time to hang out and visit. They met for Italian—Olivia loved how much Alex loved food, and couldn't imagine where she put all the pasta she consumed because it wasn't visible anywhere on her body—and she found Kate charming, and funny, and could see why Alex loved her so.

Kate, for her part, knew that Alex was as happy as she'd ever been, and could see from the way that Olivia greeted her when she arrived at the restaurant to meet them, could tell from the adoring looks she gave Alex when they were talking, that this one just might stick. She'd been afraid, knowing how much Alex had built this up in her mind, but a couple of hours with the detective eased her mind entirely.

They were lingering over dessert, discussing the trip to Baltimore—Kate shared Olivia's concerns, but could tell that Alex was determined to do this, and was glad Olivia would be along to share the trip with her friend. Just after they'd begun to make noises about heading home, with Olivia and Kate needing to work early the next morning, Kate saw someone enter the restaurant and said, "Shit. Perfect."

Olivia looked, too, over Alex's shoulder, but didn't know what had caught Kate's attention, and her ire.

Now Alex looked, then turned around with an expression that had gone from lighthearted and happy to supremely annoyed in less than five seconds.

"Who is it?" Olivia asked.

"Madeline," Alex answered. "The woman I was seeing after I broke off my engagement with Robert." Olivia only knew what Alex had told her, but on that basis alone, she didn't care for the woman. Alex had portrayed her as someone who was uniformly horrible, and she had treated Alex badly, taking advantage of her unsettled emotional state to gain the upper hand in their brief but passionate relationship.

"I hate that bitch," Kate said, and based on the reaction of Alex's best friend, Olivia knew that the whole thing had been every bit as ugly as Alex had indicated. "I hope she won't come over here."

"She will," Alex said, but didn't sound happy. "I haven't seen her in forever, but she can never resist any opportunity to ruin an evening."

And, as predicted, Madeline arrived at the table not a minute later, with a much younger woman in tow who was clearly her lover. She eyed the group before speaking to Alex.

"Well, Alexandra Cabot, aren't you as lovely as ever?" she said. "Won't you get up and give me a hug?"

"Hello, Madeline," she said, and rose reluctantly to offer a perfunctory hug. "You know Kate Merritt," she said." Kate and Madeline only nodded at one another, clearly no love lost between them. Before Alex could speak again, Madeline interrupted, looking at Olivia.

"And who is this?"

Alex reached out her hand to Olivia, and Olivia took it, standing up next to her. She sensed that Alex could use a bit of support here—this woman was domineering and more than a little unpleasant. "This is my girlfriend, Detective Olivia Benson. Olivia, honey, this is Madeline Taylor."

Olivia held out her right hand, keeping hold of Alex with her left, and shook Madeline's outstretched hand. "Pleased to meet you, I'm sure. Alex has told me so much about you." If the whole thing hadn't been so tense, Olivia would have enjoyed the smirk on Kate's face.

"I'm surprised," Madeline said. "Things were a bit intense when Alex and I were lovers, and she normally likes to keep that sort of thing to herself." Now Madeline's lover looked bewildered and intimidated, like she'd wandered into a soap opera or something. She was obviously punching out of her weight class in this relationship. Kate and Olivia were both instantly furious, while Alex just looked like she wanted to fall through a hole in the floor.

Olivia was determined not to let this woman have the final word, to embarrass Alex this way. "Well," she began, "I know what you mean. Alex does tend to want to protect people. But she's gotten much better lately about letting people know when she doesn't like them, haven't you sweetie?" Alex's smile was priceless. "She didn't seem to have any trouble telling me what kind of person you are. How about you, Kate?"

Kate's response was gleeful. "Oh, she was very forthcoming about what a horrible, malicious bitch you are, Madeline."

Madeline looked stunned, and Alex had recovered herself long enough to deliver the final blow.

"Have a wonderful, evening, Madeline," she said. "Don't I get a hug goodbye?"

Madeline turned, not saying another word, never having introduced her girlfriend. She left, not just the table, but the restaurant.

Kate and Alex both looked at Olivia. "What was that?" Alex finally asked.

"I know you sometimes take a while to decide on your impression of a person, Al," she answered. "Me, not so much. I just didn't want to prolong the agony."

Now Alex laughed, and Kate joined in. And they both knew, if they'd had any room for doubt, that Alex's judgment—and her taste in women—had improved dramatically over the past several years.

Alex enjoyed the rest of her week off, and got some errands run, did laundry for both of them, and saw her shrink. Twice.

The trip to Baltimore was looming, and she knew she had to do it, but wasn't ashamed to admit that it scared the hell out of her.

"What are you hoping to gain?" Dr. Jackson had asked.

"I want to be home," Alex had answered.

"Interesting," the shrink had replied. Alex hated that word coming out of the therapist's mouth. It always either meant, _that was totally uninteresting and I lost track of what you were saying_, or it meant_ you are so far beyond fucked up that I'm mentally reviewing the minimum requirements to initiate a 24-hour hold_. "You think of Baltimore as home?"

Alex just looked at her.

"No, God no," she finally answered. "I feel like I have to do this so I can be home here, and never think of that place again."


	8. Chapter 8

**-8-**

They drove down, leaving early Saturday morning. Alex thought the road trip might help, might ease her into it a bit. .They talked on they way down about the new job.

"So, did you have to come out of the closet to the DA?" Olivia asked.

"I don't think he's that obtuse, Liv," Alex answered. "Surely my private life is not nearly as private as I might like to think."

"I just wondered. Didn't know what the protocol is for that anymore," Olivia said. "He's an elected official, I know how they can be about knowing all there is to know so they don't get surprised by anything down the road."

"Well, I did consider it, but you know what? Gay marriage is legal in this state, and it's 2012 for God's sake," Alex reasoned. "I shouldn't have to tell him anything. I doubt Cutter ever waltzed in there and announced he's straight. And I'm damn sure that Jack McCoy never disclosed the fact that he would sleep with any ADA who'd let him."

"I'm sure you're right about that," Olivia laughed. "But, Alex, you know I'd never want to hold you back politically. If it makes more sense for us to fly under the radar, I'd get that."

"Get this, then: I've waited for so long for you, Liv, that you are out of your mind if you think I'm going to spend a single second denying this."

Alex was looking at her now, with an intense gaze, and Olivia could feel it boring through her skull even though she had both eyes on the road.

"Good," she finally said. "Guess I won't have to cancel the billboard in Times Square then."

Alex just laughed. "Oh, you too, babe? Wish I'd known. We might have saved money if we'd paid for the ad-space in bulk."

"Are you excited to get started, then?"

"I am excited. And nervous," Alex admitted. "Incredibly nervous."

"Really?" Olivia asked, and gave Alex a sidelong look that was equal parts doubt and amusement. "You're not easily intimidated, Cabot. What's to be nervous about?"

"Managing the office," Alex confessed. "I'm not nervous in a courtroom. Well, maybe a healthy dose of jitters, but generally I know where I stand when I'm running a case. I know if I have the evidence I'll need, and what I might have to do to convince a jury if I don't. But dealing with a bunch of lawyers, assigning cases, and the like...it's nerve-wracking."

"Will it help if I tell you that you'll be great?"

"I would say no, because you're biased, and you'll say anything I want you to say," Alex laughed. "But I'd be lying. Yeah, it helps a lot."

"Well, I don't think I'm biased," Olivia said. "But I do have ulterior motives. I've never slept with a bureau chief before."

"Play your cards right, Detective, and you'll do a lot more than sleep."

They got there around noon, and checked into a hotel near Alex's old neighborhood. They'd discussed how they were going to handle this, and Olivia had offered to make contact first with a couple of Alex's friends and neighbors, tell them the situation, rather than just having Alex show up on their doorsteps. Everyone Alex wanted to see, with one exception, was taken care of. They had been shocked—how could they not, after all?—but uniformly eager to see Alex, or Sarah, or whatever part of this had all managed to sink in after a bizarre call from New York City detective.

Alex had not decided yet, though, about Danielle. She knew she had to see her, but hadn't asked Olivia to make contact. Didn't have any idea how she would go about this, with the whole thing complicated by their brief encounter all those months before in the wine bar.

Saturday afternoon, after they settled in to the hotel, they headed to Alex's old street. Olivia had arranged for her to meet several of her neighbors, all at once. One of them had graciously offered to host a get-together, and Olivia was grateful for that kindness. It meant that Alex would get to answer the questions for them once, instead of three or four times. She was much warier of this than Alex was, and wanted to support her in this, but her hopes for a good outcome were tempered by her fears that Alex would be upset, wouldn't get the response or the welcome she hoped for. Though, admittedly, Olivia had no idea what that hoped-for outcome would look like. Alex didn't seem to be sure herself.

Olivia drove, with Alex giving directions. Halfway there, at a stoplight, Alex reached over and touched her hands, gripping the wheel with tension and nervous expectation.

"I'll be okay, Liv," she said. "Whatever happens, you're here with me, and this will be over, and I'll be okay."

Olivia looked at her, and smiled. A nervous smile, but a smile, and she nodded. Alex _would _ be okay, she knew that. When the arrived on the block where Sarah Clarke had lived, where Alex Cabot had hidden, they parked in front of the next-door neighbors' house. They walked up to the porch, and Alex knocked hesitantly. It was just a few seconds when Karen appeared, and opened the door. She stared at Alex for just a second, taking in what was different and what was the same.

Though this all seemed impossible, and not the sort of thing that the residents of Loganview Drive dealt with every day, Karen knew from the eyes that this was the same person who had lived next door to her for over a year, and disappeared one day with no forwarding address and no explanation, just a note that she'd been called away on family business. The note, the only indication they'd even had that Sarah Clarke wasn't missing or dead, had been at Alex's insistence, so that the Baltimore PD wouldn't have to deal with any missing-persons reports.

Karen smiled, and said, "Sarah."

Alex returned the smile, but had to correct her. She couldn't be Sarah again, even for a minute, even for a friend.

"Alex."

Then Karen reached out and hugged her, and Alex hugged her back. They went inside, where Alex was greeted by her former neighbors, and friends, and the scene repeated itself a few times, until they all were done hugging and chattering and laughing to themselves about this little bit of espionage and secrecy that had once lived on their quiet street. Alex introduced Olivia, and they all sat, with Alex asking after their kids and their jobs and their hobbies and elderly parents and everything else she could remember.

They answered, and were glad to see her, but clearly had a million things they all wanted to ask her, with no clue what was even remotely appropriate. Finally, Karen's husband Matt, couldn't take it any longer, and at the next pause in the conversation, he spoke.

"So, what the hell have you been up to?"

Everyone laughed, and in the middle of laughing, Alex teared up a bit, as did all of the women present, and even one or two of the men.

She gathered herself, and said, "Well, since you asked..." Then it all tumbled out in a few frantic sentences of apologies and explanations and they could all admit in retrospect that it had seemed odd that she had no family, that she'd seemed a bit haunted and out-of-reach to them, but hindsight being 20/20 and all, who'd have guessed? Who, indeed.

They stayed longer than they'd expected, but Alex enjoyed it. The new inhabitants of Sarah Clarke's house were home and, when Karen spoke to them, they offered to let Alex see the house. They had been briefed by Karen or Matt, Olivia suspected, because they were kind enough to wait out in the yard, chatting with everyone, while Alex and Olivia walked through the house. Alex didn't linger long in any of the rooms, bu t it was tough for Olivia to watch her make her way through the house, the place that had seemingly been both a sanctuary and a prison for her during her final year away. The kitchen, in particular, held her attention for a long while, and that would have amused Olivia if it hadn't been so poignant to watch.

"Cook a lot in here, Cabot?" Liv finally asked, hoping to ease Alex's distress just a bit with a joke.

"Martha Stewart, you know me," Alex responded drily, distractedly. "No, actually, I sat in here a lot late at night when I couldn't sleep, and wrote letters to you, and to my family. And then I walked in to the extra bedroom and leaned over by the desk I kept there, and shredded them."

Olivia stepped up behind her, embraced her. "Oh, Alex. What can I do, honey?"

"Just what you're doing," she said. "Be here, and touch me, and call me Alex."


	9. Chapter 9

**-9-**

The next morning they met for coffee with Alex's old boss, who had been a friend as much as a supervisor. Alex was feeling great, all of this going better than she'd had any right to expect. But she knew that there was one more person she had to see, and she'd still done nothing about it, hadn't been able to decide how to approach it. Finally, after a late lunch, she looked at Liv across the cafe table and said, "I have to do it. I have to do this, so we can be done here, and we can go home."

"Okay, babe," Olivia said. "Do you want me to call her?"

"No, I don't think so," Alex said, deciding it only in the second that the words came out of her mouth. "I'm going to go to her house, and knock on the door, and take my chances that I say the right thing."

"Do you want company?" Olivia asked, hoping Alex would say yes. She didn't know if this would go nearly as well as the other reunions had, and wanted to be there for Alex. But the attorney wanted—needed—to do this on her own, and she told Olivia.

"Liv, I left here with no explanation to her," Alex said. "At least I left the neighbors a note—she got nothing. I have to go there and just take whatever comes. I owe it to her to go there alone, I think."

Olivia didn't like it, but she couldn't argue with the logic. She tried to put herself in Danielle's shoes. She, at least, knew what happened to Alex when she'd gone into the program the first time. Even if she hadn't, if Alex hadn't forced Hammond to let her see the two detectives, she'd have believed Alex was dead, and mourned her. If Alex had just vanished, though, and left Olivia without a clue as to what had happened? That would have been undeniably—perhaps, unforgivably—hard to take.

* * *

Olivia decided to go to the art museum, to pass the time, and Alex headed off to Danielle's house. She cruised the street a couple of times, feeling comfortingly incognito in her Mercedes with its tinted windows. It was a far cry from Sarah's ride, which had been a little two-door of some design so nondescript that Alex couldn't recall the name of it. Everything about this trip, even the parts that had already gone well, felt like some sort of masquerade or costume party. And Alex had thought she was prepared for that, but here in the thick of it she was horrified to realize that she couldn't tell who was playing dress-up: Alex, or Sarah?

Finally, on the third pass around the block, she saw Danielle pull up in her car, park in the driveway, and let herself in the front door. Alex parked a couple of houses down, and walked slowly back to the blue house with the blue car and the tidy front yard. She walked up the steps, and rang the bell, heard footsteps in the house heading toward the door. She knew Danielle was probably looking out at her before opening the door—who doesn't, these days? No one just _visits_ any more, just shows up at your door without calling first. And only then did it occur to Alex that Danielle might _not_ open the door. God knows she'd have to think it over if the situation were reversed.

Finally, the door swung open and Alex stepped back to allow the screen door to open outward, toward her. Danielle just stared for a full minute, and Alex just stared back, not knowing what was the right thing to say. Emily Post hadn't covered this in the etiquette guide, really.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Danielle finally said. "It _was_ you."

Alex just nodded, not sure if she was hearing anger or shock or disbelief. Probably all of the above. She said, "Can I come in?"

"This, I've got to hear," Danielle said, and stepped aside to let her into the house.

* * *

They talked for three hours, and Alex explained, and explained again. Danielle _was _angry, _and_ shocked, and pretty much every other thing one might expect in a situation so bizarre that it was laughable. They laughed, and talked, and cried a bit. But every so often during their talk, Danielle's fury would flare up. She was mad about Alex leaving with no explanation, to be sure, but seemed just as mad that she hadn't been honest when they'd run into each other last fall.

"Sar...Alex, it's not that it happened. As much as this all sounds like a fucked-up Lifetime movie, I admit it's all too crazy for you to be lying. So, yeah, you had to live a lie, to save your life. I get that," Danielle said. "But when they came to take you back to New York, you were safe, right?"

"Yes, I guess I was," Alex said. "Though I'm not sure I believed that, not at first."

"You could have told me, left me a note, sent me a goddamn singing telegram. I was worried sick, and confused."

"And pissed," Alex offered.

"You know what? No," Danielle clarified. "Not at first. Because I was scared, and the Sarah I knew never would have left with no notice. It's not like I even had reason to suspect you'd done it to break up with me. Things were good between us, and you know it. I thought something was bad wrong."

"I'm sorry, I really..."

"You keep saying." Danielle cut her off. "You keep saying you're sorry, but what you did was inexcusable, really. I had to find out from your neighbor, when I had to beg the police to meet me at your house to do some bullshit they called a _well-being check_. I meet them there, and listen to some line of crap about how I have no legal standing, can't report you missing, and on and on. They finally go in, and I'm standing out there, hoping they don't come out and tell me you're dead."

Alex looked stricken—had no idea Danielle had gone through that—but couldn't speak. How do you respond to that?

"Finally, this asshole cop comes out, tells me that you're just out of there. _Everything of a personal nature is removed from the residence, ma'am. Your girlfriend flew the coop on you,_" Danielle remembered. "Your neighbor sees this, must recognize me or something, and comes over and tells me she got a note, some family emergency, and you're _gone._ And _that's _when I got pissed. I mean, what the fuck, Sarah?"

"Alex." She said this reflexively, automatically, but realized a second too late that maybe she shouldn't have.

"Fuck _Alex_," Danielle shouted. "I don't know Alex. _Sarah Clarke _did this to me, and I'm telling _Sarah_ that I didn't deserve that."

Alex had weathered the storm as long as she could, feeling bad for hurting Danielle—again—after so much time had passed. She'd known she couldn't move on herself without apologizing, even if the apology wasn't accepted, or forgiveness might not be offered. But she'd lived so long with her own failures in all this mess, tried to right her own mistakes, and tried to get back everything it had cost her. She'd forgotten how angry she was—how truly full of rage she was that so much had been taken from her, that she'd been for even one moment a person who would hurt people she cared about.

"You're right, you didn't, no-one fucking deserves that," Alex was shouting now, too. "I didn't deserve to be shot, to be taken from my friends and family, to be taken a second time from a life I'd managed to make when I didn't think I had enough strength left to make a fucking sandwich. There was no _Sarah_, Danielle, there was just Alex, pretending to be someone else."

"If there was no Sarah, then I guess I was sleeping with a ghost," Danielle retorted. "How the fuck is that supposed to make me feel?"

"I have no idea," Alex admitted. "Some son of a bitch took everything from me, and then I just proceeded to take that pain and spread it around. I never meant to hurt you, I didn't. But when someone showed up at my door and said I could go _home_, and see my dad, and see the woman I loved, and be called by my real name, I couldn't _not_ go. I should have told you. I should have told you then, I should have left you a note, or called. I should have told you when I saw you in December, but I just froze."

"There was someone, then," Danielle said. And it seemed to Alex that sometimes, maybe the most any of us can do is tread water, and absorb only the parts that are about us. When there is so much pain in something and it breaks into a thousand pieces in your hands, you can only pick out the slivers and shards that are cutting _you,_ and everyone else has to fend for themselves.

"Yes, and no," Alex said. There _was _Olivia, but there wasn't, and how could she explain that? How could she explain that she'd been willing to leave Danielle without hesitation, to go back to New York for a what was really only a glimmer of a chance at something, _anything_, with Olivia?

"_Yes and no?" _Danielle asked incredulously. "What the hell does that mean? You've lied to me enough, so just say it. _Yes, there was someone. _You loved someone else, while I was loving you.I knew then that you were never really mine, not 100%. I just couldn't figure out who, or what, had a hold on you."

"We worked together," Alex began, desperate to explain how she really had no choice, how it had killed her to be away from Olivia, and to know that she was probably sitting in a rented home in a fabricated life, missing someone who might not even love her. She didn't want to wield it over Danielle like some kind of weapon—just wanted her to know that it was something real, and important, and that she hadn't hurt her intentionally, or for nothing. "She was there when I..."

"I don't want to hear it," Danielle said, cutting her off. "I really don't. I think you've told me everything I needed to know."

Alex had often been accused of being cold, and aloof. It was a perception she was aware of, even encouraged when it suited her purposes. In reality, she was anything but. She felt as pained now for what she'd done as she had felt then, eight years ago. They said their goodbyes, and Alex drove back to the hotel, not sure if this had done what she'd needed, but knowing it was over, and she'd never have to do it again.

* * *

She called Olivia from the car.

"_How was it, honey?"_

"I'm done here," was all Alex would say. "We need to leave first thing in the morning."

Olivia didn't know how to take that. _"Okay,"_ she said gently. _"Did you have dinner?"_

"No, I'm not hungry," Alex replied. "I'm going to take a shower, and sleep, and when I wake up in the morning I want to leave here and never come back again."


	10. Chapter 10

**-10-**

She arrived at the hotel 20 minutes later, and let herself into the room. She dropped her purse, kissed Olivia on the forehead and headed straight into the bathroom, turning on the jets on the showerhead and putting the water on as hot as she could stand it.

After a few minutes, Alex heard the door open, and Olivia flipped on the overhead light.

"Off, please," Alex said. Olivia could tell from her voice, even over the noise of the shower, that she was tired, and had been crying.

"Okay, sorry," she answered, and flipped the switch again, plunging the little room back into darkness. She could feel the heat rolling out of the shower. "Can I get in?"

"Sure, whatever you want," Alex said. That wasn't like her. She was normally eager to have Olivia soapy and wet, anytime she could get her that way, but if she was shaving her legs or deep-conditioning her hair, she'd definitely let Olivia know she should wait.

Olivia slid the curtain back and climbed in, finding Alex facing the steady, battering streams of near-scalding water, letting them hit her forehead while her hands covered her face. She wanted to touch her back, her shoulder, just provide a bit of reassurance, but hesitated.

"You were right," Alex finally said. "Maybe this was the worst idea I've ever had."

"Did it go that badly with Danielle?" Olivia asked.

And suddenly Alex had turned, and brought their mouths together forcefully, before she pulled her head back and looked at Olivia, eyed her almost angrily and said, in a harsh whisper, "Don't. Don't say that name, don't ask, just...don't."

* * *

She kissed Olivia again, and her hands were everywhere, touching, grabbing, rubbing, pinching, twisting. She couldn't keep her mouth away from Olivia's, but couldn't keep it _on_ there, either. She was frenetic, all over the place, and Olivia couldn't keep up. Part of her thought of stopping this, not sure what was going on, but she'd felt this way herself, more than a few times. You needed everything, and nothing, and just to be fucked and forget everything for a little while. If Alex needed that, needed to use her to wake up from this nightmare, she could deal with that.

They fucked, fast and hard, in the shower, Olivia coming quickly and loudly, before Alex shut off the water with a hard slap of her hand and pulled Olivia out and toward the bedroom. They didn't towel off, didn't stop long enough to do anything but yank the bedspread off the bed entirely. The room was dark, and cold, and Olivia felt goosebumps come up on her own wet skin, as well as Alex's. The blonde's hot kisses and her frantic tongue, as it traced the veins in Olivia's neck, were a delirious counterpoint to the shiver she felt from the air in the room.

Olivia loved hotel rooms, loved having sex in them—it felt a little sterile, and anonymous, under the best of circumstances. Even with someone you loved, and knew, sex in a hotel room was like sex with a stranger sometimes, and you could pretend to be someone else. All those white sheets and dark curtains, it was like shutting the world out and stripping everything back to bare bones. Tonight, this was the best place they could be, and Olivia gave herself over to whatever Alex wanted.

She'd made love to Alex Cabot a number of times, and in number of ways, but even their first encounter, in a hotel room in New York eight years ago, hadn't been anything like this. She had never met Sarah Clarke, but she had some idea that's who was fucking her now, frantic and rough. Alex was deliberate and intense in her lovemaking, could make Olivia come in one position then another without it ever seeming like she broke her focus, stroke Olivia's folds with her tongue for long minutes, use her fingers inside of Olivia for what felt like hours, teasing and coaxing. But this person on her now was all over the place, skimming the surface, never alighting anywhere for more than a few seconds.

Finally, Olivia flipped Alex to the bed, and hovered over her.

"You can't get enough tonight, can you?"

"No, I can't," Alex admitted, breathless. "So why are we talking?"

"I don't know," Olivia admitted. And she turned her body above Alex's, putting her mouth on Alex's clit, stroking her tongue, quick and rough, through the delicious heat there, while lowering her own wet pussy to Alex's face, and moaning into Alex the moment she felt that tongue snake its way up the slick skin between her legs. Liv normally wasn't a big fan of this position, She didn't like the yin-yang, didn't like being so distracted while she gave, or received, such pleasure, didn't even like the number _69_ and the snickers that came with it. But tonight, it was just the thing.

They hungrily consumed each other, and finally came, Olivia just a moment after Alex, before they collapsed onto the bed. After a minute, Olivia turned back around, bringing her head to Alex's, and looked into her blue eyes. She could see something familiar there again, and was relieved, but said nothing. Sleep would do wonders, she thought.

* * *

The next morning, they woke up, and Alex was herself again, but seemed a bit embarrassed by her behavior the night before.

"Good morning, honey," Olivia said. "Ready to blow this Popsicle stand?"

"I'm sorry, Liv," Alex said.

"Sorry for what?" Olivia asked. "Are you staying here, leaving me to head home alone?"

"No," Alex said quickly. "Hell, no. Just, for last night. I was...I don't know. Not myself, that's for damn sure."

"It's fine, Alex, really," Olivia reassured her with a kiss. "Whoever you were was—different, for sure—but I understand. And it's not like I wasn't along for the ride, you know."

"I just..."

"Stop," Olivia commanded. "Stop, and get up and get dressed and let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

They checked out of the hotel, grabbed breakfast at an IHOP to avoid the morning rush hour, and Olivia offered to drive. She felt like she wanted to put as much distance between them and Baltimore and Sarah Clarke as quickly as possible. After a few minutes of driving, she took a route Alex hadn't expected, and headed toward I-83 north, rather than toward the New Jersey Turnpike.

"Where you headed, babe?" Alex asked.

"Home," Olivia replied.

"But home is that way," Alex said, pointing vaguely off to the northeast.

"I'm taking Alex Cabot home," she said, meaningfully. Alex took a moment, Liv could see her looking at a map in her head, when she finally smiled.

"Are we going to East Amherst?" Alex asked.

"Yes," Olivia confirmed. "I saw Sarah Clarke's home, and now I want to see Alex Cabot's home. You with me?"

"I thought you had to be back at work tomorrow."

"No, deceit by omission, I admit. I took the week off, wanted to take you somewhere to get away after you did what you had to do in Baltimore," Olivia explained. " I couldn't decide where—thought about the beach, or the mountains, maybe. Then, I thought, maybe we have one more pilgrimage to make."

Her eyes were on the road, and it took her a minute to realize that Alex was crying.

"Sweetie, if you don't want me to..." Olivia began.

"No, it's...perfect." Alex just sat for a minute, overwhelmed with the thought Olivia had put into this. "It's absolutely perfect."

* * *

They arrived in East Amherst late in the afternoon, checked into a bed and breakfast, and took a quick spin around town, ending their drive at Alex's childhood home. Olivia had found out who owned it now, and by chance the guy was a cop. She'd called him a few days earlier, and he was happy to let Alex in to look around. None of the sadness of her journey to Sarah Clarke's house was on display. She was happy, showing Olivia around the house, her room, and then, after thanking the homeowners profusely, taking her on a long walk around the neighborhood.

They had a late dinner, and returned to the B&B. As they lay in bed, holding hands, each of them reliving the past few days, Alex was quiet. Finally, she got up, lit a candle, turned off the bedside lamp, and climbed into bed again, carefully laying her naked body atop Olivia's, feeling tiny charges of electricity all along her frame. She kissed Olivia, first gently, then more urgently.

"Make love to me, Liv," she asked, a pleading note in her voice. "Please."

"Oh, sweetheart," Olivia breathed out the words, floated them to her on a a cloud of air, barely any weight or heft to them. And she did make love to her, and brought her back from wherever she'd been, and called her Alex. Again, and again, and again. "I love you, Alex."

* * *

After a few days upstate, a visit to Niagara Falls, and a trip to Canada, Alex looked at Olivia one morning over breakfast.

"Now, I want to go home," she said. "Really home. With you." And they packed the car and drove.


	11. Chapter 11

**-11-**

Alex's first day in Major Case was a Monday, and went much as expected: getting settled in to her office, meeting what seemed like a hundred people, and spending the afternoon getting a briefing on the bureau's open cases. Her predecessor, Andre Bennett, would be moving to an administrative position on the DA's executive staff, so he'd be around if she needed anything, but she was determined to know what she needed to know now, and hit the ground running. Her previous stint as a bureau chief in appeals hadn't quite been the abject failure she perceived it as—no-one was as hard on Alex Cabot as she was on herself—but she'd learned a lot, and wouldn't make the same mistakes twice.

Ellen had moved with her from SVU, and Casey and Mike weren't thrilled. Even though she was Alex's assistant, she was the longest-tenured admin any of them had and could be counted on to deliver the goods, so they were loathe to see her move upstairs with Cabot. Alex, though, would have been lost without the competence and caring the woman offered, and would have fought tooth and nail to convince her if she'd had to. The continuity was welcome, because while they were in the same building, only three floors above their old offices, it felt like a different landscape altogether.

Where Special Victims was the job most of the attorneys would do anything to avoid, Major Case was for climbers, and to a person the attorneys under Alex's command were hyper-intelligent, politically motivated and far too ambitious for their own good. A case tried here was usually big news, not just in the halls of Hogan Place, but also in the Times and the local news and any other place where people liked to write or talk about things rather than do them. The ADAs knew it, the people in City Hall knew it, and Alex knew it. The klieg lights would shine much brighter here than they had in appeals or even in SVU, and any failure on this stage would presage a spectacular fall. This was why she was nervous, though she'd downplayed it to Olivia, and while she had been truthful in saying that she didn't know where her own ambitions would take her five or ten years from now, she knew that falling short of expectations would dramatically limit her options.

Bennett was a good guy. Alex's own dealings with him were limited, but Casey knew him, and spoke very highly of him. He was thorough in outlining the cases, gave her what she needed without bogging her down in details.

"You're coming over at a good time, Cabot," he said. "Not too many open cases on the dockets."

"I'm sure that's due to your hard work the past few weeks," Alex said. "I appreciate it, Andre. Thanks for taking the time to fill me in."

"It's the least I can do," he told her. "When I took the job, there was no chance for a transition. I wasted a week just spinning my wheels, trying to get up to speed with little or no help from the backstabbing careerists who'll be working for you."

"Please tell me it's not that bad," Alex said.

"God knows I'd love to," he laughed. "But it _is _that bad. Prepare yourself, Alex. If pride goeth before a fall, this bunch will hit the ground with an enormous thud. You've got to have their backs, but don't forget that they don't necessarily have yours."

"I was afraid of that," Alex said, with a heavy sigh. "My last stint as an EADA was in appeals, where everyone was so green I felt like I was on Mars. They didn't have a lot of experience, but they were loyal."

"Well, this should be a nice change of pace for you then," Bennett joked. "You'll find no lack of experience-or confidence-on your staff."

"Anything in particular I should know about any of them?"

"Well, their evaluations are in the files, but to be honest, I'd suggest you _not _read them right away," he advised. "Meet them, give it a while, see what you think of them without letting my opinions color your judgment."

"That sounds ominous, Andre. What have I gotten myself into?" She smiled, to let him know she was kidding, at least in part.

"From everything I've heard about you, Cabot, you're both fearsome and fearless. That's a powerful combination," he said. "You'll do fine. Support them, stand behind them, but never let them behind you. Just remember-yours is the biggest office, and it's your head on the block, so do what you think is right."

* * *

By the end of day one, she was exhausted. Names and faces were flying through her head and case files were littering her desk when Ellen came in to see if she needed anything else. Alex looked up with an exhausted smile.

"Ellen, I'm fine, thanks for everything," she said. "Have a good evening."

"I will, you too," she said, and she turned to go, but looked back in before she pulled Alex's door closed. "Will you end up staying here all night, Ms. Cabot?"

"I'll try not to, but I can't make any promises," the attorney laughed. "Will you _ever _call me Alex?"

"Perhaps when I retire, but I can't make any promises," the older woman said. "And while I do worry about you, it's Detective Benson who told me to make sure you don't fall asleep here. I don't want to get on her bad side, so please do go home, have dinner, try to sleep at some point."

"Okay, in that case I will. Can't have you getting in trouble with Olivia," Alex winked at her. "One of us has to stay in her good graces."

* * *

Alex did leave, finally, at 9:30. She took a couple of files with her, and called Liv as she was leaving her office.

Olivia answered on the first ring. "You'd better be calling to tell me you're leaving work," she said.

"I am. Sorry, babe," Alex said. "Lots to absorb. I didn't realize how late it was getting."

"Well, good, because if you were going to spend the night there, I was going to have to give you an earful," Olivia warned her. "But I _would _let you bring a file home, so you'll put on those sexy glasses and do some lawyering on my couch."

It felt good to talk to Olivia, to be reminded of life outside of Hogan Place. Though she'd only been back a day, the two weeks of vacation had been far too kind to her. She felt like she'd been breaking rocks all day, and was glad to leave it behind. "I can do that," Alex said, as she walked out of the building and started toward the garage. "But can you watch me do my lawyering on _my _couch? I've got an early breakfast meeting and I'd hoped to grab a quick run. I just don't have it in me to go home early in the morning to grab a suit before work."

"Taken care of," Olivia said. And Alex heard a horn honk, looked up to see the Mercedes parked at the curb with Olivia behind the wheel. She climbed in gratefully, and looked at Liv with a puzzled smile.

"How did you know I'd be leaving now?"

"I didn't. I've been here for about 20 minutes, and if you hadn't called in the next 10, I was coming in after you."

"And the car?"

"Spare set of keys at your apartment, of course," Olivia laughed.

"You walked to my apartment to get the car keys, then cabbed it over here to pick me up?"

"Well, I had to go by there to get your clothes for tomorrow. I was motivated, sweetie. I wanted five or ten minutes with you before your head hits the pillow, because once that happens, I suspect you'll be out for the night."

"Am I that predictable?" Alex asked. "This is too sweet, Liv. I'm so tired I might cry."

"No crying," Olivia smiled at her. "It's my job to figure things out. I'm a detective, remember?"

"A sweet detective," Alex amended.

"Well, let's not let that get out. I'll have suspects expecting back-rubs and Munch giving me his dry cleaning."

Alex relaxed into the passenger seat, thinking she could comfortably sleep right here, but she did want to spend a little bit of time with Olivia tonight. Alex's insomnia had eased noticeably since she'd been seeing Olivia, and she didn't know if it was the fact that she was as happy as she'd ever been, or that she was having sex that was both fairly frequent and always fantastic. Or, simply, that she felt a weight had been lifted from her. Whether that was due to Olivia, or vanquishing the demons she'd carried since Baltimore, or some combination, she didn't know. And she didn't much care, when it came down to it.

Knowing that she had someone to go home to made her surprisingly happy. She'd never thought it was important. But then, she'd never had someone at home she cared so much about.

Olivia noticed how quiet she was. "That was a long first day, sweetie. How was it?"

"Exhilarating and exasperating and exhausting."

"Extremely?" Olivia joked, and Alex laughed.

"Excessively so," she added. "But, day one is in the books and if I can remember even half of what I was told and who I met, I'll be doing well."

"Lots of cases in play right now?"

"No, and thank God-and Andre Bennett-for small favors," Alex said. "I know he worked his ass off so he wouldn't have a lot to hand over."

"Well, that's something good then," Olivia said. "What's on the docket for tomorrow, Chief Cabot?"

"The breakfast meeting I mentioned, with the Chief ADA to discuss _legislative priorities_,then the weekly meeting with the DA and all of the bureau chiefs," Alex said. "And that's all before noon."

"Lots of meetings," Olivia said. "That sounds like it'll be the biggest change for you. Will you get enough time in the courtroom?"

"Probably not, so I'll just insert myself into too many cases and piss off my ADAs," she said. "Why not? Donnelly did it to me for years."

"That's the spirit, sweetie," Liv said. "Do unto others..."

"Before they can do unto you," Alex finished.

"Damn right," Olivia laughed. "I think I like this new you. The bureau chief version is so autocratic**. **You're just oozing power, Cabot. It's downright sexy."

"Thanks," Alex said. "Machiavelli had nothing on me. As much as I hate to disappoint you though, babe, I'm too tired to grant your wish of sleeping with a bureau chief."

"No," Liv said, "_sleeping _is exactly what I'm going to do with my bureau chief." She reached over for Alex's hand, rubbing her thumb lightly along the palm. "There will be plenty of time for currying sexual favors with you later. Tonight, I'm going to put you in a bath, rub your feet while you read a file or two, and then slide you into bed and tell you a story until you fall asleep."

"What's the story going to be about?"

"Not sure yet," Olivia answered, and lifted the hand she'd been holding, kissing the knuckles one at a time."Probably a beautiful lawyer who risks everything for justice, and her tough-as-nails cop girlfriend..."

**"**Sweet," Alex interjected. "Tough but sweet."

**"**Fine. Her-tough-but-sweet cop girlfriend, and how they put away bad guys and eat lots of Italian food and live happily ever after."

"So, only just the greatest story ever told then?"

"Pretty much."

* * *

Alex felt refreshed on Tuesday morning, a consequence of Olivia insisting that she sleep at least five hours, and then setting the alarm so that she'd get closer to six.

**"**I missed my run, babe," Alex complained.

**"**Want some cheese with that whine, Cabot?" Olivia teased, then relented a bit. She was a sucker for the look Alex got when she was disappointed. "I know you did, and I'm sorry. I won't make a habit of it, but you need sleep as much as you need to run. Besides, it's supposed to be a beautiful day. How about we take a run after work?"

**"**You're acting like that's for my benefit," Alex said. "But I suspect it's a way to get me home from work before the sun goes down."

**"**Call it what you want," Olivia replied. "But if it doesn't work, I'm not above having Ellen pull a fire alarm to get that building evacuated."

As the day wore on, Alex realized she might have to try that trick herself. Her breakfast meeting had been interesting, to say the least. Meeting with the DA's right-hand man had been enlightening, and while they hadn't discussed any practicalities, Alex knew when she was being leaned on. In particular, the guy outlined the specifics of the DA's support for the Public Corruption Prevention & Enforcement Act, and made it quite clear what was, and was not, expected of Alex.

Later, at the DA's weekly meeting, Alex did far more listening than talking, and had a thought or two about the fact that she'd made it this far. She'd certainly matured since she was a 26-year-old ADA. Just a little over a year out of Harvard, having clerked for a federal judge and then spending barely six months prosecuting drug cases before her assignment to SVU, she'd been accused of nepotism, and worse. Looking back, she realized she'd have thought the same thing herself. Having a judge for an uncle had been a blessing and a curse, even then. **  
**  
Now, sitting at this table, Cutter was her peer, not her supervisor. She'd grown as an attorney and hadn't hesitated to challenge Mike when she felt it was warranted. She'd be a hypocrite to expect anything less from the staff in her new bureau.

The rest of Alex's Tuesday was spent meeting with the attorneys assigned to her, taking a few minutes to speak with each of them individually, and then a few more minutes after each meeting to jot down some notes encapsulating her first impressions. She knew some of them, of course, but mostly in passing, or as a friend of a friend. Hogan Place was home to more than 500 attorneys, and SVU was among the more insular units in the trial division, so she had no close friends or associates among the 27 attorneys on her team.

She worked quickly, wanting to get her thoughts down on paper while they were fresh, and also hoping to get home at a decent hour for a run—or some kind of exercise—with Olivia. The detective's afternoon, though, was significantly busier, and less pleasant. At 2:30, Cragen had gotten a call from the Chief of Police, followed shortly thereafter by a visit from the Chief of D's. He summoned Olivia and Nick as soon as the brass left.

The Chief's office had learned late that morning that the _Times _was about to publish a multi-part expose on sexual abuse at the Mansfield Academy, an elite private school on the Upper East Side. The story alleged wanton and ongoing sexual abuse by the Academy's teachers, and the paper's editor only called NYPD with a heads-up because the fallout would be radioactive. The school's alums included the Mayor, the Governor, three current Senators and one former President. The culture had been one of tacit acceptance, and the _Times_ was alleging that the first victim had attended the school four decades before. Now, the Chief had kicked the case to Cragen and his squad, and they had less than 48 hours to get out in front of it before the story went to press. They worked out a plan with Cragen.

"You've got lead on this, Liv," he ordered. "Nick, with her, you two will be primaries. But it's going to be a big job, so I'm giving you Fin and Rollins as well. We'll get them in here shortly and brief them."

**"**How do you want to play this, Captain?" Nick asked. "Lot of toes could get stepped on here."

**"**Then lose the boots and do this in ballet slippers, if you have to. It's a shitstorm, you two," he said. "And you're going out in it, so put on your waders. It's going to get deep."

* * *

Olivia barely had a moment to call Alex at 6 and let her know that she wouldn't be home—for a run, for dinner, probably not for a night or two.

**"**This is major, Liv," Alex said, as soon as she heard the broadest outline of the investigation Olivia was leading. "Too many people with too much to lose. Be careful, babe."

**"**I will," the detective promised. "I'm sorry about tonight, sweetie."

**"**No apology necessary," Alex said. "If even half of what the _Times _is planning to report turns out to be true, that's going to be a nightmare. You're the best woman for the job, even if I would rather have you at home."

**"**Thanks, really."

**"**Save it for tomorrow morning."

**"**What's tomorrow morning?" Olivia asked.

**"**When I come by with clean clothes for you, and decent coffee and enough breakfast for you to share with Nick," she replied. "That might be something to be grateful for."

The case was, as feared, a many-headed hydra, with far-reaching tentacles and the potential to blow up into a media circus. The Mansfield Academy had educated privileged boys for more than 160 years, and a disproportionate number of them became men of power and prestige, in New York and in Washington. The reaction of the most famous graduates would either help the detectives and the DA's office sort this mess out quickly, or would result in stonewalling delays and press coverage that could only make this an even bigger nightmare than it had to be.

**"**I'm not liking this, Liv," Amaro told her as they were 36 hours in, running on fumes and interviewing witnesses and accomplices, accusers and accused. They'd each slept about 3 hours in the crib, when the hour became too late to contact any interviewees and they'd fried their brains piecing together the details. The _Times _hadn't given them the sources, the notes, or even the story itself. They'd been content to provide a broad outline and let the cops go back and do work they'd already done.

**"**Can't blame you, Nick," she agreed. "People who know something don't want this to come out, because it's going to be assumed that _they _were molested, and because even if they weren't, people will ask how they didn't do anything to report it then, or to stop it now."

**"**Well, they're all valid questions," Nick averred. "These men, lots of them anyway, have power now. If they knew what was going on—even if it didn't happen to them—they've got to answer for that, almost as much as the perpetrators. I mean, you know half the instructors at your school are abusing boys, and you not only keep it to to yourself, but you keep donating money, supporting the abusers? What sense does that make?"

**"**And more than a few of them sent their own kids there, so that only increased their interest in covering it up," Olivia added. "They couldn't afford to have the school's reputation destroyed."

* * *

They worked through the better part of the second night, Olivia having new reason to be grateful for Alex when she overheard Nick's goodnight call on Wednesday. "_Honey, I know, but I can't leave. The story hits tomorrow, and after that we'll get a little reprieve, and I can come home for a few hours. But until then, I have to be here, and get hold of as many of the players as I can, before I have to deal with camera crews and the damn paparazzi."_

She knew Maria was giving him a hard time for being here two nights in a row, knew from years of dealing with the peculiarities of the Stablers' home life that, even if she wasn't outright accusing him, she most likely assumed it was only a matter of time before her husband slept with his female partner. Olivia suspected that, even if he'd been here pulling overtime with Munch or Fin, he'd still get a rash of shit about the hours he worked.

Alex, on the other hand, knew the drill, and uttered not one peep of discontent when they'd talked, didn't pack Olivia's bags to send her on a guilt trip she didn't deserve. She said _I love you_and _I miss you_, but she just said them, didn't throw them in Olivia's face like accusations, or favors she was doing her. **  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**-12-**

Benson and Amaro were obviously not surprised when the _Times _broke the story on Thursday morning. They were, however, overwhelmed by the media's rapacious desire to sell copy. It was always this way, Liv thought. They were content to tut-tut about how what evil lurks in the hearts of men, but that never stopped them from cashing in on every paper they could sell, and every click they could drive to their websites. The juicier the details, and the higher-profile the players, the happier they were to expound on the horrors of it all.

Meanwhile, there were 40 years' worth of victims dealing with a multitude of feelings. Though it seemed like they'd interviewed half of the eastern seaboard, Thursday's breaking news brought a flurry of calls, and new victims coming forward, and calls for someone's head. Whose head they wanted depended on who was doing the calling .Cutter was with them every step of the way, working this case and planning to prosecute it himself. And while Mike was normally very measured in his approach, he'd already told them he had no doubt that at least some of this would end up in court. "Too much smoke for there not to have been a fire," he said. They all knew they were in for a long summer on this one.

* * *

Olivia finally went home late Thursday afternoon, pushed out the door by Cragen, and followed closely behind by Amaro. "I don't want to see either of you until noon tomorrow," the Captain warned. "Your colleagues will keep working this, but you're both so tired you're basically spinning your wheels at this point." They would've stayed, if he'd let them, but by the time Olivia made it to her apartment, she knew he'd been right to send them both away for at least a few hours.

She was sound asleep on her bed, still in the clothes she'd come home in, when she felt a whisper of a kiss on her cheek. She smiled without opening her eyes, and reached a hand out, by chance finding the back of Alex's thigh as the attorney leaned over the bed. The silk of the hose under the hem of Alex's skirt was the best thing Olivia had felt in days, and she ran her hand up and down the strong thigh.

**"**Hey, this is a nice surprise."

**"**I talked to Fin. He told me Don had sent you home," Alex said. "So, I decided to exercise a little executive privilege and leave early to see you."

**"**Sweetie, as much as I love you for it—and as much as I love the way those hose feel on your legs—you're really going to have to give some thought to what you consider _executive privilege_. Without even looking at the clock, I know you can't have left the office before 6."

**"**Well, I figured that once I got home and told you what I wanted to do to you, you'd be glad I gave you a little time to nap." Alex's voice was all heat and desire, and Liv realized that they hadn't had more than an hour together in the past four days.

**"**Chief Cabot, are you trying to tell me I've been spending too much time at work?" She slid her hand further up the outside of Alex's leg, expecting the hose to go on to her waist. When she felt a stocking end and soft skin start, it lit a fire low in her belly.

**"**I'm not _trying _anything, Detective Benson. I'm _telling_ you that you've been spending too _little _time making love to me, and I intend for you to remedy that deficiency ASAP."

**"**Well," Olivia said in a lazy drawl. "Someone's got her panties all in a bunch."

**"**Wrong again," Alex replied, and reached down, putting one hand on each side of her skirt, sliding it slowly up to her hips. "No panties at all."

Olivia was speechless, pondering how she could go from exhaustion to a throbbing need for Alex in such a short time. As much as work occupied their time, and energy, it was still a new relationship, and they were definitely enjoying the honeymoon phase of it. Liv had _been there, done that_, but had found to her great surprise that love made even the honeymoon phase sweeter—and the sex better—than she'd ever thought it would be.

**"**What's wrong, Liv? Cat got your tongue?"

**"**No, definitely not. Just thinking if I'd been with you this morning when you put these on"—she gently snapped a garter—"you'd have never _gotten _to work."

**"**I'll let you make up for it now," Alex said. "Unless you're too tired, of course."

**"**You've got to be kidding," Olivia said, and rose up to a sitting position in one fluid motion, planting her feet on either side of Alex's and wrapping both arms around her hips, pulling her close, burying her face in Alex's belly, just soaking up the scent of her. "I've been waiting all week to fuck an Executive Assistant District Attorney."

**"**Oh, I didn't come here to get fucked." Alex's voice was dangerously low, and Olivia couldn't deny that a little bit of dirty talk from the seemingly prim and proper attorney never failed to fan the flames.

**"**No?"

**"**Most definitely not." Alex took Liv's left arm, then her right, and disengaged them from her own waist. She pushed the detective backward onto the bed, and climbed atop her, taking both hands and pinning them to the bed above her head. "No, I think I came to do the fucking tonight. What did you call me the other night? An autocrat?"

**"**Did I?"

**"**Don't play innocent with me, Liv. It won't work." Alex was moving, ever so slightly, grinding her hips into Olivia's. Liv knew that the seam of her jeans had to be providing more than a little delicious friction against Alex's clit. She knew Alex was wet without touching her—the room smelled like sex, like a mix of her and Alex, just a hint of arousal in the air between them. And she knew Alex—knew the attorney had not, in fact, spent the whole day without her panties, not because she was too shy or reserved or prudish, but because she'd never have lasted all day like that. Unless...

**"**That feel good against you, baby?" Olivia asked. "It's like wearing jeans with no underwear. Denim rubbing me there, a little rough, just enough to really get me going."

**"**It does feel good, Liv," Alex admitted. "But why ask questions if you already know the answers? You know what you do to me. Now, it's my turn."

**"**You've always told me you _never _ask questions you don't already know the answers to, Counselor." Olivia's voice was throaty, a little hoarse. "I learned from the best."

**"**Don't try to top from the bottom, babe."

**"**Why not?" Olivia teased, and a devilish smile reached her lips. "I learned that from the best, too."

Alex continued to move her hips, arousing herself, arousing Olivia. Both of them were still fully clothed, or damn close to it, nipples hard and tingling beneath shirts and bras. Olivia was enjoying this, and dragging things out between them gave her no small amount of pleasure. But she was dying to feel Alex, dismantle this perfectly assembled creature in front of her, and then turn her inside out.

**"**You know what, Benson? You're too mouthy for your own good. Why won't you just shut up and take what's coming to you?" She pinched Olivia's painfully erect nipple. "I've been waiting all day—all week—for this."

Olivia took advantage of the attention to her breast to pull a hand free.

"I don't think you have," she said. "Panties or no panties, I know that if these stockings"—she ran her hand up Alex's leg, slipping a finger beneath the top edge of the hose—"and this garter"—she moved her hand to the elastic now, stretching it gently—"well, if they do to you even half of what they do to me, then I _know _you didn't wait all day."

**"**Objection," Alex said, in a whisper so sexy Liv felt it in her gut, and lower. "Badgering the witness. Is there a question here?"

**"**Let me rephrase," Olivia said, holding Alex's eyes with her own. "Did you, Ms. Cabot, or did you not get so turned on earlier today that you ran those long, beautiful fingers under the black panties that you _always _wear with this skirt, and get yourself off just thinking about what I'd do to you tonight?"

"No, I didn't," Alex replied, but Olivia's finger sliding over her clit, then trailing down through her wet heat, made what was meant to be a statement sound much more like a question, or a guess.

"No?" Olivia asked, and abruptly pulled her hand back. Despite her frustration—that Olivia was trying to co-opt this seduction, and doing a damn good job of it, teasing and tormenting her—Alex shook her head. _No._ "May I remind you that you're under oath?"

"Remind away. The answer's still no." Alex moved quickly, lifting her pelvis away from Olivia's, and pinning the wandering hands once again. "I got myself off thinking about what _I'm _going to do to _you._ And as you're about to learn, that's no subtle distinction."

* * *

Alex's power outside the bedroom meant nothing to Olivia, but in here it was another story. Though it might appear to someone on the outside, someone judging on appearances, that Olivia was the butch in this dynamic, she knew that Alex gave as good as she got. The reality was much more fluid than any stale stereotype might indicate. She'd had fun playing this out tonight, but in reality, it was all just foreplay. Olivia was ready, willing and more than able to be dominated by Alex, liked it when her girlfriend was a little demanding, and a little rough.

For her part, Alex didn't always need to be in control. Once, that might have been the case, but she trusted Olivia implicitly, and found that while that trust allowed her to lose control without fear, it also allowed her to take control without apology.

"I've got this covered, babe," Alex told Olivia. "Just relax, and follow me." Alex continued to tease and touch Olivia, and allowed a little of that attention to be returned. A bit at a time, they lost their clothes, and their patience. At last, when Olivia thought she might have to beg for it, Alex strapped herself into the harness and situated the dildo in it, feeling a tug as Liv grabbed hold of the toy and maneuvered it toward herself.

Sex with the detective offered more flavors than Baskin-Robbins, and Alex planned to sample a few tonight, but was more than happy to start out with Olivia in her lap, sliding up and down the silicone shaft. It never failed to make her wet, whichever end she found herself on, but seeing it slide in and out of her lover was a visual she couldn't grow tired of. Taking Olivia this way, first with the detective controlling the speed, the angle, and then with Alex behind her, draped over her muscled back, was a thrill she'd grown addicted to.

* * *

Olivia came only once, having been taken to the edge and back several times, but when she did, it was a shattering implosion. The feeling of Alex against her back, touching her, holding onto her hips as she slid in and out—it was all paralyzingly delicious. She let Olivia rest for a while, before she decided it was time to get hers. She knelt on the bed, next to Olivia, but as soon as the detective's hand reached for her, she shooed it away. Olivia was persistent, and tried to move Alex toward her, to position the beautiful body over her mouth. Again, Alex wasn't biting.

She wagged a finger at Olivia. "Nice try, but not tonight," she scolded.

"Then what?" Olivia asked. "I know you're wet, honey, just let me taste you."

"No," Alex said. "I want you to _watch_ me. I'll show you what I did today when I thought of you, when I slipped my fingers inside my underwear and stroked myself until I came." And she did, not allowing Olivia to touch her. "Eyes only."

And those brown eyes were wide, and focused, as Alex knelt there and brought herself to a shuddering orgasm, eyes closed by the end, calling Olivia's name. It was quite possibly the hottest thing Olivia had ever seen, and as Alex's waves subsided, she reached out to wrap her arms around the attorney, supporting her, and licked the fingers that were coated with Alex.

She kissed Alex, letting the blonde taste herself on Olivia's lips, and finally just pulled back to look at her.

"Amazing." It was the only thing she could say.**  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**-13-**

The next day was Friday, but not much weekend loomed for either of them. By 9:30 that morning, the forecast was for zero down time. Alex was called in to the DA's office, and was met there by the District Attorney, the Chief of Police, and a few minions thrown in for good measure. The DA greeted her.

"How are you settling in, Alex?"

This was obviously no social call, so the answer was the only answer she'd be allowed under the circumstance. "Great, sir, thank you."

"Glad to hear it," he said, not bothering to hide the fact the he obviously couldn't care less.

"We've got a situation, Ms. Cabot." Chief Anderson interrupted their perfunctory small talk. "The DA tells me you're his choice to handle it."

Alex's instinct was to start gathering information, whip out a yellow, stiff-backed legal pad and start accumulating details. But she had no idea who to ask. She could see that Samuels was pissed that the Chief had taken over the room. She looked, then, to her boss for answers, and he obliged.

"Cabot, do you recall the Joshua Walzer case?"

"How could she not?" the Chief interjected, his impatience as obvious to Alex as the mile-wide streak of asshole that he didn't even attempt to hide. Alex and Samuels just looked at him, then Alex answered.

"Yes, I do. Eight-year-old, disappeared on his way to Cub Scouts one Saturday afternoon. Still missing, nearly 25 years on and never any real leads or suspects."

"Until now," Anderson said. "We've got credible leads and we think we've found our killer. We're planning to bring him in for questioning, but given the inevitable clamor this will trigger from the Fourth Estate, we're treading very carefully."

The DA had had enough of being relegated to the sidelines in his own office, with his own employee. He took control of the conversation once again.

"We're going to hand this case to you, Alex, and we need you to be involved from the very first interview with the suspect. It could've probably gone to Cutter in SVU, as we already feel certain there was some component of sexual assault, but with your experience, you're the obvious choice. I want you there for every interrogation, sitting first chair, from day one until we have the SOB in jail. You'll have to lean on Bryn Harvey to step up and help you run the office so you can focus on this. I don't want this in anyone else's hands. The family has waited 25 years to find out what happened to their boy, and to get justice. We can't fuck this up, Alex."

"Understood, I'll handle it," she said.

"I knew you would. The Chief will have the lead detectives in your office within an hour to bring you up to speed," he said, and stood, extending his hand to let her know the meeting was over. "Welcome to Major Case, Cabot."

* * *

The summer trudged on, filled with far too many days of blistering heat and unending work. The Walzer case was taking all of Alex's attention. The suspect had made incriminating statements to his brother-in-law; after 24-plus years he seemed to be tired of carrying the burden of his guilt. The case itself didn't seem all that complicated—Alex's experience in Special Victims put it squarely in her comfort zone.

But the suspect hadn't confessed outright, not to his brother-in-law or to police, and his attorney was throwing up roadblocks in the form of endless motions and continuances, trying to buy time, Alex suspected, to come up with _some_ sort of defense. The noises he was making led her to believe that the result of all the maneuvering might be an insanity defense, so she was already doing all she could to head that off at the pass. She already felt the pressure to do well in this job. Overseeing the prosecution of the highest-profile case in recent memory wasn't easing her nerves.

Her third chair on the case was a 29-year-old named Charlie Dean, a Georgetown grad with two years in Major Case under his belt. He'd come from the Cybercrime & IdentityTheft Bureau before that. He was more than competent, certainly, and there was no-one better at helping to prep a case, but his presence in the courtroom left a lot to be desired, and his summations always lacked a certain imagination and flair.

The attorney sitting second chair, Dev Patel, was Dean's opposite—all flash and fireworks but not much for the hard work that had to be done before the banging of the gavel signaled _showtime_. The case was in the news constantly, the public fascinated with a 25-year-old story that finally had an ending for parents who had resigned themselves to their son's fate—after all, who'd want to believe that he'd been out there somewhere all these years suffering?—but who'd never given up on hope that they'd find out who, and why.

The three attorneys slogged through the case files, the motions, the interview transcripts, and everything else they could get their hands on, strategizing and planning, then scrapping it all and starting again when some new piece of evidence of found bit of information surfaced and changed everything.

* * *

The Chief ADA stopped by one morning.

"Cabot, the _Sloane Jansen Show_ called the DA. They want to discuss the case tonight, need someone on the panel from the prosecution. It's an ongoing investigation, so there won't be much to say, but we still feel like we need to do it."

"And I assume the DA will want a thorough update before he goes on-air tonight?"

"Sorry, I wasn't clear. He's not going on camera. _You_ are."

"Pat, I don't have time for this. Can't we just refuse?"

"Not an option," he said. "Finally cracking this case doesn't do any good for anyone, us or NYPD, if we don't take the message to the people. In the 21st century, that means CNN."

"The people are getting the message," Alex argued. "There are already two TV movies in the works, plus _Dateline_ and _20/20._"

"We've got to _control_ the message, Alex. The DA's decided you're the person to do it."

Alex was reluctant for a number of reasons—her desire for the spotlight wasn't what it once had been, and though she knew nothing even remotely associated with Velez was a threat to her anymore, hadn't been for years, she was still wary of taking such a public role in the media. "Let Patel do it. It's right up his alley."

"We're not _floating ideas_ here, Cabot, or drawing straws," he said. "The decision is made. Hair and makeup at 7, on air at 8. They'll send a car to get you here at 6:30." He was out the door, leaving no chance for any further protest.

* * *

"Goddamn it. " Alex swore, and slammed her hand on the desk. She didn't want to do this, wasn't enthusiastic about doing any TV, but the _Sloane Jansen Show_ was a particular pet peeve of hers—sensationalistic bullshit wrapped up like some crusader's public service—and this was not good news. She did the first thing she thought of now—when something went very wrong, or even very right, she called Olivia. It was like the thing hadn't _really_ happened until they talked it over.

"Sloane Jansen?" Olivia asked, incredulously after Alex related the details of Flynn's visit. "And he tells you this on same-day notice during a drop-by?"

"More like a drive-by," Alex said.

"You have no choice?" Olivia didn't need to explain her own concerns; they were much the same as Alex's, and she didn't want to say anything to stoke the attorney's own latent anxieties. "Don't get me wrong, baby, you're definitely the best-looking thing in Hogan Place. America will thank you for sparing them a one-hour segment with the DA. You're much easier on the eyes."

"Thanks, Liv, but it's not working. I still don't want to do it."

"You can't sic Patel on them? From what you say, he's a media whore."

"Ideal, right?" Alex joked. "But no, I tried that."

"Well, guess I'll just say good luck then. Wanna have dinner first?"

"Don't think I'll be able to eat, but if you have time, will you stop by my office for moral support?" She sighed.

"You got it, sweetie. I'll come over at 5:30 to see if you can stomach a bite or two."

"I'll just be dull and uninteresting," Alex plotted. "They'll cut away to commercial, shoo me out of the studio, never ask me back."

Olivia laughed. "You, dull and uninteresting? Good luck with that, babe, but there's not a shot in hell of that happening."


	14. Chapter 14

**-14-**

Alex texted her aunt. They didn't watch the show but had friends who did, and Alex wanted them to be prepared for the phone calls when everyone saw Bill and Jean's niece on TV. She met for hours that afternoon with Dev and Charlie. They worked on the case a bit, but spent most of the time going over strategy and details, and what Alex would and would not disclose, to prep her for the show. She was pissed off—already, at least two good hours were shot reviewing details instead of actually doing anything to improve their chances of winning the damn case.

Patel had been even less helpful than usual after he learned of the TV appearance. "I tried to send you, Dev, but the DA wasn't going to let me off that easily," she joked with him. He laughed, a hollow laugh. Inside, he seethed, knowing he should be the face of the prosecution on this, should, in fact, have Alex's job. He resented her promotion, and the almost reverential treatment she got from so many at Hogan Place.

As soon as the two men left her office, Alex got changed into a spare suit she kept there—dark blue, no patterns, no prints: a nondescript look, but it would read well on camera. She even put on the pearls to go with it, and went over her notes while she waited for the cavalry to arrive.

Olivia had one delay after another leaving the squadroom, and didn't arrive til nearly 6. Knowing she'd never get Alex to eat, she decided to calm her nerves some other way. The visit was brief, but memorable.

* * *

"Detective Benson," Ellen greeted her arrival. "Good to see you. Since you're here to soothe her stage fright, I'll head home now."

"Thanks, Ellen," Olivia replied. She didn't know exactly what Ellen knew of Alex's private life, or their relationship, but she supposed that if Ellen was handing Alex off like a baton, or a changing of the guard, then probably all of the cards were on the table. "You going to watch our girl tonight?"

"Oh, you know I will," Ellen said with a proud smile. "I'm making popcorn and setting the DVR. Wouldn't miss a second of it." She took her leave, and Olivia smiles at the woman's dry sense of humor and her evident devotion to the attorney. She was happy to have a gatekeeper as fierce as Ellen, stationed right outside Alex's door.

She walked on in to Alex's office, and was greeted with an absent-minded _Hey, babe_ as Alex finished something she was writing, the blonde not even looking up from her papers. Liv reached behind her and flipped the lock on the door. The latch slid home with a louder-than-normal click in the late-afternoon quiet surrounding them. Alex looked up, and met Olivia's eyes, took in the detective's pose, all seductive nonchalance leaning against the locked door.

"That outfit, Cabot," Olivia said.

"Yes?"

"It's the one you keep here for unplanned court appearances." It wasn't a question, just an observation.

"Correct," Alex confirmed. "What about it?"

"It's hot."

"Pardon me? This navy suit—the most boring thing I own—is hot?"

"Oh, yeah. Very hot."

Alex didn't know where this was coming from, but she hadn't yet grown tired of being adored by Olivia, didn't know that she ever would. She stood up and walked slowly around the desk, giving her the full view. "It's just a suit," she said, knowing from the look on Olivia's face that it was definitely not _just_ a suit.

"I knew you'd be wearing it. I've been looking forward to it all afternoon."

"How did you know that?"

"Well, you _weren't _planning on court today, and I'm pretty sure you had no idea you'd be making your CNN debut tonight, so when you left the house this morning, your look was a little less conservative. There's no way you'd go on TV like that."

"Good God, I _am _too predictable, then."

"I prefer to think that I'm just that perceptive."

"So smart, aren't you?" Alex teased. "But I still don't know that _hot_ is the word I'd use for this suit."

"Then get a different mirror," Olivia said. She pushed off the door and walked to Alex, looking her up and down as she crossed the room, finally locking on her face as she came to a stop about a foot away, not touching Alex with her hands, but exerting an almost magnetic pull on the attorney regardless. "First off, this is much more reminiscent of your everyday attire when I first met you, and I must say one thing hasn't changed: the sexy librarian, forbidden-fruit look just _works_ for you, honey."

Alex smiled. "Is that so?"

"It is," Olivia replied. "The fact that you're wearing this _boring _suit, but you haven't changed out of those sexy shoes? Oh, my."

"I didn't know you noticed my shoes, Detective."

Olivia moved around now, behind Alex, and ran her hands down both legs, from the hip around the back of the knee and down. Alex stifled a gasp. "Well, I notice everything about you. Though it certainly doesn't hurt that the shoes _are _at the end of pair of beautiful legs. They're hard to miss."

Now, she gently lifted one ankle as Alex grabbed the edge of the desk for support. "These red soles? They just scream _fuck me_, like waving a flag in front of a bull."

Alex was at a loss, having expected Olivia to try to feed her dinner, not to perform a seduction of near-surgical precision. Olivia lowered the ankle, placing the foot back on the floor, and then stayed in her position, crouched behind Alex, and ran her fingers so slowly up the backs of Alex's legs that she thought she'd go mad with anticipation. She finally found her voice. "It's not the color that attracts the bull, you know," she said. "It's the movement."

Olivia's hands continued moving, heading north, steadily but excruciatingly slowly.

"You don't say?" she replied, looked to be mulling over this new information. "Yeah, I could see that. The movement is pretty fantastic, too."

"No-one will see the shoes on TV," Alex said, inanely, her loss for words very troubling for someone who made a living with them, someone who was, in fact, about to be interviewed on national television.

"True, very true," Olivia said. "But I'll know they're there, won't I?"

Alex gasped now, a sharp inhale as Olivia reached her goal, sliding her hand along the seam of the pantyhose, moaning just a bit at the heat and wetness evident there.

"Now the pearls? They're another story. Everyone will see those, millions of people, thinking how totally fucking _put-together _you are. I'll be imagining you in nothing _but _the pearls, and the shoes, after I have taken you thoroughly and comprehensively apart." Olivia was standing now, pressed against her back, having lifted the skirt and beginning to tug down the pantyhose, and the thong she always wore with this suit.

"Fuck." Alex said, hardly even aware she'd vocalized the only thought in her mind.

Olivia leaned into her ear as she slid her hand around the front and pulled the hose down. "Oh, sorry, no time for that, Chief. I was just going to drop by here for dinner, but I knew you'd never agree to eat. So, I will." Olivia turned her around, and lifted her gently onto the desk, pulling the hose down, then kneeling down, only to raise back up, encircled by Alex's legs, shoes still on, hose binding her ankles.

She wasted no time, cognizant of the fact that a car service would be coming soon for Alex. Her opening salvo was a long lick through Alex's center, and she was immediately rewarded with a strong hand in her hair, as Alex grabbed a handful and hung on. She teased Alex's opening with the tip of her tongue, and slid it slowly up and down, circling her clit with the tip of it, before flattening it out and lavishing attention on every centimeter of space she could reach.

Alex was incredibly aroused, hardly needed much stimulation after the unexpected foreplay, and the feeling of being perched on her own desk, with Olivia's tongue inside her, was pushing her quickly to the edge. She came in just a couple of minutes, having uttered not a word, communicating through moans and the movement of her hand in Olivia's hair, and her hips under Olivia's mouth. After she came, she reached for Liv, wanting a kiss, wanting to taste herself on Olivia's tongue.

"Uh-uh-uh," Olivia tutted, wagging her finger at Alex. "Can't be kissing you, messing up your gorgeous face. You're about to go on TV."

"There's hair and makeup. They get paid for that," Alex said. "Kiss me, now."

Olivia obliged, kissing her deeply even as a few tiny tremors were still evident in Alex's muscles.

"You're going to do great on TV," Olivia said. "Don't worry."

"Worry?" Alex said. "After that, I could hardly give a fuck what happens. I'm just going to be waiting to come home and see what I can do about the shoes-and-pearls fantasy."

Alex did do great on TV, a fact she attributed to Olivia's effective if unconventional relaxation techniques. She was calm, confident, and the camera couldn't get enough. Olivia had known that would be the case. She couldn't seem to get enough, either.


	15. Chapter 15

**-15-**

The next morning, Alex woke to a 6 a.m. call from the DA's foremost flunky.

"Cabot."

"What the hell happened last night?"

She was wide awake now, knowing this wasn't a congratulatory call for her CNN performance. "What do you mean, Pat?"

" is blowing up with some inside information on the Walzer case. Did you leak anything to them after the show last night?"

"Hell, no." Alex's reply was angry, and definitive. "But I know who did. I'll handle it."

"You'd damn well better."

Olivia had heard half the conversation, and as Alex hung up, she simply said, "What?"

"Fucking Patel. He leaked information to CNN, perfectly timed to look like I talked to them after the show last night. He was pissed off that he wasn't the one going on the Jansen show." She was punching the bookmarks bar on her phone's browser, pulling up the _Legal News_ section. She was reading, her fury evident.

"Is it horrible?" Olivia asked.

Alex didn't answer for a minute, absorbing the details of what was leaked, deciding the information leaked wasn't nearly as important as the leak itself.

"No, not really," Alex said. "Not in terms of what they're reporting. But I'm firing his ass today. I will not be hung out to dry by him or anyone else."

"Can you do that? Don't you need proof that he did this?"

"You're right," Alex said, up and walking the room. "I'll write him up, suspend him, ship his ass to traffic or fucking lost pets or whatever other goddamn legal Siberia I can find."

Olivia knew better than to discuss it further, so she got up and started the coffee, let Alex stew and rage her way through her morning ablutions, curse her way through coffee and toast, and take out a little aggression on her files, slamming them into her bag as she prepared to leave. She calmed long enough to kiss Olivia, and tell her she'd call her later.

"Have a good day, honey," Olivia joked.

"Not very fucking likely." Alex wasn't joking as she left the apartment, and Olivia felt certain that ADA Dev Patel had no idea what a huge mistake he'd made.

* * *

Within a few days, it had mostly blown over. Alex was able to verify, through a couple of credible channels, that he had reached out to a friend of a friend at CNN to hand over some mostly-harmless information designed only to make his boss look like she either leaked the details herself, or had no control over her office. She had written him up, had suspended him for a week for insubordination and failure to maintain the integrity and confidentiality of office business. The DA backed her on it, and Dev offered to resign if the suspension wasn't included on his record.

The DA was impressed with her quick and decisive action, and even Alex had to admit that, while that sort of power play wasn't her normal M.O., it certainly sent an unmistakable message to everyone else in her office that she wasn't willing to be fucked with. That, she decided, was probably a fine message to send them.

The next Tuesday, Samuels said as much when pulled her aside at the weekly executive meeting. "Way to cut that off at the knees, Cabot."

"Thank you. I anticipated problems with him, and I was prepared to handle them, but I won't have anyone embarrassing this office and jeopardizing a case like that," she explained.

"With all of that going on, I haven't told you how well-received your appearance on the Jansen show was," he said. "You were fantastic."

"Well, I'm just glad it's over," she said.

"I'm afraid it's not," he said. "They want you again this Thursday night."

"Colin, is that really necessary? We've said our piece, haven't we?"

"Look, Alex, we need all the good PR we can get. I really need you to do this, to be there as often as they want you to. You handle yourself well, you say the right things. It's good for the office."

Alex could see that this was not a question, not really even a request. She could also see that, while this type of positive media coverage was probably good for the office, it was most definitely good for the DA himself. And that meant that it was an offer Alex couldn't refuse.

* * *

Olivia was keeping busy with the Mansfield Academy case. With alleged abuse going back so far, the statute of limitations was expired on a good many of the cases they'd become aware of, but the culture of abuse was so ingrained in the institution that she and Nick knew there were plenty more cases that were within the 7-year time frame to prosecute.

The wealth and influence of so many of the school's graduates meant that they'd been interviewing CEO's, elected officials, doctors, and lawyers, with a movie star and a Pulitzer Prize-winning author thrown in for good measure. To their surprise, many were more than willing to talk, to tell what they knew. The current head of school, having held his position for nearly 30 years, had not been an abuser himself, but had repeatedly and flagrantly ignored the horrors going on within the walls of the school. The victims had, for the most part, been the few on campus who didn't wield any power or bring with them any large donations from wealthy parents. The scholarships offered to boys with financial need were few but generous, and it was primarily these students on whom the abusers had preyed.

Olivia's most contentious interview had been with the Mayor himself, Mansfield class of '60, who went on to get an undergrad degree from Cornell, and an MBA from Yale. His two sons had attended Mansfield, as well, and he wasn't willing to tell her anything. He was definitely one of those loyal sons of Mansfield who felt that any blemish on the reputation of the school was a blemish on his own reputation, as well.

"I don't know what else I can offer you, Ms. Benson," he said.

"Detective Benson," she corrected him. She was used to this kind of tactic, a careful word here and a look there, designed to highlight his position while diminishing her own.

"Sorry, _Detective _Benson," he corrected, with a tight smile. "I've told you all that I know, and the updates I get from the Chief of Police and the DA seem to indicate that you've done a very thorough job of identifying all of the alleged abusers."

"Often, a detail that seems insignificant can open a new avenue in an investigation," she explained. "With a pattern of abuse so many years in the making, we just want to be confident that no stone was left unturned."

He spoke with her a while longer, only in general terms, and reassured her that neither of his sons had ever spoken of any abuse they'd experienced or witnessed. Both of them, he explained, were sadly unavailable for questioning. The elder, Jeffrey, was working with the US government in China, while Andrew was an Army captain serving with his unit in Afghanistan.

_Convenient_, Olivia thought.

* * *

Despite the stonewalling of a few, they had managed to identify 13 men who had abused more than 110 boys over the course of 40-some years, and 7 of those men had committed crimes recently enough to face prosecution. Cutter was thrilled, and both Olivia and Nick were glad when the pace of the investigation began to wind down. They weren't done, not by a long shot, but the initial frenzy was over and they both had a little time to work other cases, to go home once in a while, to sleep, even.


	16. Chapter 16

**-16-**

Through the fall, Alex appeared several more times on the _Jansen_ show, and once on _Dateline_, when the Walzer case wrapped up and she had secured a guilty verdict. She still didn't like it, got nervous every time, but ratings were up when she was on the show and so they were happy to have her back as often as possible. The beautiful EADA was good for the DA's approval ratings, too, and he and his staff were happy to keep running her out there at every opportunity to be the face of the New York County District Attorney's Office.

After all, every politician starts running for re-election the morning after inauguration, and the DA was satisfied that Alex didn't pose any threat to him, wasn't remotely ready to run for office herself. And as far as he was concerned, if something didn't hold the threat of harm, it could only hold the promise of reward. She was smart, talented and undeniably attractive, and he was glad to have her in his arsenal of re-election weapons.

* * *

The DA's regular meetings with the Mayor were generally a matter of discussing policy, strategies to curtail and prosecute crime, and how they could successfully scratch one another's backs without ceding any autonomy on either part.

They agreed now that this case at the 8th was a pile they had no desire to step in and resolved between them to soft-pedal any prosecution efforts. The Mayor felt that it wasn't productive to highlight corruption among New York's finest, and the DA found himself surprisingly agreeable on this particular occasion.

The DA was surprised, during the same meeting, to learn that the Mayor's enthusiasm for the Major Case EADA had diminished rather rapidly.

"You've created a monster, Colin."

"What do you mean?"

"Alexandra Cabot. She's on my TV so often these days, I'm wondering if she'll soon have a recurring role on _Rizzoli & Isles_."

"Now that she's gotten the Walzer case put to bed, that should resolve itself," he replied. "Besides, you were the one who suggested she go to Major Case. I thought you'd be happy to see her achieving success."

"Her success is fine," the Mayor replied. "Her high profile is another story. You're okay with that?"

"I'm the one who forced her into it," Samuels answered. "She didn't want to do it, not the first time and not the last. But it plays well, don't you think?"

"You're a smart man, Colin, but don't be lulled into a false sense of security. You may be using her now, running her out there on CNN, having her speak at luncheons and then banking the campaign contributions that follow. But she's dangerous."

"How do you figure?"

"There's savvy there, and smarts. You know her backstory—if she ever decides to run with that, she'll have the voters eating out of her hand. She's got Harriman money to back her, and she looks a hell of a lot better on TV than you do. If she wanted to, she could leave you in her wake with a few powerful strokes of the oars. And you're setting her up to do it."

"Thanks for the advice, Stephen, but I've got this under control. My money says that by the time she's ready to run I'll be on the federal bench, and I'll gladly hammer signs into lawns all over Manhattan for her."

"I'll take that bet," the Mayor offered. "When she realizes what she's capable of, you're well and truly fucked, Colin. We all might be."

* * *

While the Mayor and the DA were deciding that, campaign rhetoric aside, not every case of police corruption was worth pursuing, Alex was reading the files on the latest ongoing investigation. The police force had nearly 35,000 officers, and most were honest, but about 300 of them were so corrupt they'd frame their own kids and then blackmail their own mothers to cover it up.

The issue at hand now involved officers fixing traffic tickets for friends and relatives. It involved 11 uniformed officers from the 8th precinct on the Upper East Side. The DA had run on a platform that included rooting out corruption, and Alex was sure this would be a case they would aggressively pursue.

She was shocked, then, when he told her a few days later to let it go.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not," he responded. "The evidence is a bit shaky, the accusations are far less serious than other corruption issues. I mean, they weren't planting drugs on suspects or dicking around with evidence."

"My first week on the job, your Chief ADA sat me down and told me that you were the DA who would make a historically strong stand against corruption in the police force, and in government. And now you're telling me, on a clear-cut case of abuse of power, to _stand down_?"

"I am," he repeated.

"I knew the Mayor would do anything in his power to cover up corruption in the NYPD, but I didn't realize he was calling the shots in this office now."

"Watch yourself, Cabot," he warned. "This is my decision, and last I checked, I don't work for you."

"That's where you're wrong," she replied. "I voted for you. With all due respect, you most definitely work for me. It's Mayor Grant you don't work for."

He'd not really seen this side of her, and found himself momentarily taken aback. She'd seen right through him, and his collusion with the mayor on an issue that he'd claimed as his own during the campaign. He softened his tone, suddenly wondering if there wasn't something to the mayor's concerns after all. If she was going to play a game of brinkmanship with him, perhaps he'd fall back on a strategy of appeasement.

"Look, I'm not saying we won't prosecute. Just that this doesn't warrant all of your resources right now, so let's hang back and let IAB see if there's more to it before we decide how we'll play it."

Only after he wrapped up the meeting, and Cabot left his office, did he give any thought to the fact that appeasement probably wouldn't work any better for him than it had for Neville Chamberlain.

* * *

Alex would be out of the office all of the following week for Thanksgiving and a few days off with Olivia, and knowing how bureaucracy worked, comfortable that nothing would happen over the holiday,she decided to let it lie. For now.

Before the weekend, though, she paid a visit to Donnelly. Their relationship had been a bumpy one, but the woman had taught Alex more than she even cared to admit, and Alex trusted her not to pull punches, knowing her advice was sound and without bias. She told her, in confidence, that she was being told to leave a corruption investigation alone, to let the officers involved most likely get away with a suspension and a reprimand in their jackets.

"It rubs me the wrong way," she said.

"Of course it does," she replied. "You're competitive. You hate it when someone gets over on you."

"It's not about me," Alex protested.

"You sure about that, Cabot?"

"Are you questioning my motives, Liz?" Alex asked.

"Now, would I do something like that?" Liz smiled at her, knowing Alex could probably tick off 10 occasions when she had.

Alex sighed heavily. "Look, everyone's telling me to let it go. I'm just trying to figure out if this is even a battle worth fighting."

"Every battle is worth fighting to someone, Alex, but only you can decide if this battle is _your_ battle," Liz counseled. "Take your vacation, see what pans out with the investigation. Maybe the DA will go ahead with the prosecution, maybe the allegations won't hold water."

"Maybe they will," Alex said.

"Maybe, but if the NYPD's punishment is severe enough, maybe you can live with it and save up some political capital for the next fight you need to pick."

Liz's advice was pragmatic, as always, but Alex wasn't wholly reassured. "And if not? If it does need to go to court, and I'm out there on my own?"

"Well, you do have friends in the media these days, don't you?"

Alex just looked at her.

"All I'm saying, Alex, is that if you ultimately find that this is where you'll make your stand, the piece of ground you'll fall on your sword to protect, then maybe you'll have to use _all_ of the tools available to you. An ADA, nearly killed in the pursuit of justice, returned from witness protection to resume her career, saving lives in Africa, then rooting out corruption in the NYPD with the steadfast support of her lover, a decorated cop. Think how it'll play in the media."

"Yeah," Alex said. "But more importantly, how will it play at home?"

Liz got up to leave the restaurant, pushing the check across to Alex. "Thanks for lunch, Cabot. And, since you were kind enough to pick up the check, I'll give you some free advice. Before you run for office, remember that it will be a much more compelling narrative if you marry Benson first. _Lesbian lover_ does have a certain scandalous ring to it, but it won't resonate with voters quite like _wife_."

She left, and Alex sat for several long minutes, absorbing the conversation. The jibe about getting married would normally have been the sole focus of her musings, but it was nearly lost among the implications of everything else Liz had said.


	17. Chapter 17

**-17-**

She tried to put it out of her mind, shift into vacation mode. She and Olivia were getting away, a whole week, and this time they wouldn't be spending time revisiting the horrors of Alex's past. They were planning a few days, alone, in Montreal, before heading to Connecticut for Thanksgiving with Bill & Jean in Branford. They both needed a break from work, Alex was sure, and needed time together just as much. Alex could work from home on an evening or weekend, if she wanted, so it was normally Olivia's hours that played havoc with their plans. But lately, it was a toss-up as to who would have to cancel a dinner or postpone the increasingly rare evening movie or visit with friends.

Alex hadn't enjoyed all the extra time at work, but the strength of their relationship was that they both _got it_. Their jobs were unpredictable, and often uncontrollable, so there was no point in getting angry, or taking it personally. They simply had to take what they could get, squeeze in time together here and there. Most importantly, they tried to spend the nights together several times a week. It meant a while to talk before sleep overtook them, and it gave them both a better start to their days, even if it was only a few minutes to talk over coffee.

* * *

They flew up to Montreal early on Saturday, knowing they wouldn't need the car once they were there, and craving the feeling of escape that came with a trip that started at the airport. It drew a line, cutting off work and signaling the real start to their vacation.

"Canada in November, babe," Olivia laughed. "I'd imagined you'd want to be on a beach somewhere, soaking up the sun and drinking a Mojito."

"Well, I admit it crossed my mind," Alex said. They were waiting to board the plane. "But the thought of being with you, bundling up against the cold, warming up with a hot toddy by the fire, sunset at 5 o'clock? How will we pass so many hours in the night? Come on, Liv, it's _tres romantique_."

"Here we go with the French again," Olivia rolled her eyes. "Getting into the spirit of Quebec already."

"Just wait until I get you alone," Alex promised. "I'll say things to you in French that will curl your toes. You're going to need a dictionary, sweetheart."

They landed at Montreal-Trudeau, passed through Customs and Immigration relatively quickly, and took a cab to the hotel. Olivia hadn't been involved in the planning, so their destination was a surprise to her. The cab dispensed them at Le St-Martin, and Alex checked them in.

They boarded the elevator, and as soon as the doors slid closed, Alex stepped forward into Olivia's space, kissed her and whispered in her ear. "Olivia, je veux embrasser chaque centimètre carré de votre corps, faire l'amour avec vous par la cheminée, coulissent à l'intérieur vous, vous l'entendre dire mon nom que vous tombez sur le bord_._" **

* * *

The doors opened on their floor, and Alex pulled back and stepped out, leading the way to the room. Olivia followed, intensely curious as to what Alex had said to her, and so completely revved up that she knew it could have been the attorney's recitation of the Yellow Pages and she wouldn't have cared.

She followed Alex into the room, feeling immediately that Alex had made the perfect choice. As Alex carefully placed her bag on the luggage stand, Olivia simply let hers drop to the ground, and stepped up behind Alex to wrap her up completely in a hug. She nuzzled the warm neck, pulling the hair back with her hand and whispering into Alex's ear.

"Now, what did you say to me on the elevator?"

Alex reached around behind her, grabbing Olivia and pulling their bodies together, settling herself into the hollows of Olivia's hips. She pointed across the room, and laid her head back onto the detective's shoulder before answering. "There's a fireplace. You figure out what I said."

"Alex, I hope they have room service here, because you'll be lucky if I even let you get as far as the hall." Alex wasn't arguing.

* * *

They had a wonderful time, and though they were both too restless, and too intoxicated by the thrill of visiting a new city, to stay holed up for the entire trip, they did spend most of the first 36 hours in room 523. Alex still couldn't get enough of Olivia, and the feeling was mutual. She supposed it was normal—they hadn't been together even a year—but she couldn't be sure.

Her hunger for Madeline had been insatiable, but not in any healthy way. That relationship was blessedly short, and she had felt frenzied and out of control the entire time. She didn't consider that a positive. Nothing else, ever, had even come close to the desire she still felt for Olivia.

Knowing already the way hotels stripped away Liv's inhibitions, she wasn't shy about indulging it, either. The romantic French-Canadian city around them only magnified her desire. They saw some sights, ate some food, strolled through the cold, snowy streets. And they did use the fireplace in the room.

On Monday night, they went dancing at Sky in _Le Village_. The crowd wasn't huge, but the music was good, and lately they'd had few chances to get out for such a carefree evening, so they'd take what they could get. A few hours of drinking and dancing, and a heated but brief encounter in the ladies room, and they were more than ready to get back to the hotel.

They'd been feeling like this was a honeymoon, of sorts, and the sex had been frequent and varied, relaxed and playful one time, urgent and white-hot the next. That night in particular, after coming in from the bar, they'd swung from one extreme to the other, and Olivia had cried when she came for the third time, under Alex's sure and steady touch.

"I'm sorry, Alex," she said, when she'd gathered herself.

"For what, baby?"

"I don't know what came over me," Olivia struggled to explain, even to understand it herself. "It's just..."

"Intense," Alex filled in, staring into eyes so dark they were nearly black, and fathoms-deep.

"Yeah, intense," Olivia agreed. "I love you. Sometimes, I'm still surprised by how much, still amazed that we finally figured this out."

"I know," Alex said, and held Olivia tighter, kissed her shoulders, her jaw, her top lip, then her bottom lip. "I love you, too, Olivia."

"I couldn't stop if I tried," Olivia said. "So, don't leave me. I'm too far gone."

"I've told you," Alex said, and kissed her, deeply and gently. "And I'll tell you again, and again, until there's no room for any doubt. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Their trip ended on Wednesday morning. They flew home to New York, stopped by their apartments, unpacked and repacked to head to Connecticut late Wednesday afternoon. Their visit in Branford was relaxing. After so much work, Montreal had reconnected them to one another, and Olivia was finding herself growing more and more attached to Alex's aunt and uncle. She'd not really known, in her adult life, what it was to have a family that you visited, enjoyed spending time with. The house was so calm, and it soothed Olivia's mind nearly as much as it did Alex's. She felt at home there, and at Alex's loft, and she even felt more at home when she was in her own place, with Alex. Having lived a long time with no real sense of home, or family, this was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

When they headed back to the city early Sunday morning, they were both sad to leave, and made plans to have Christmas together with Bill and Jean, if Liv's schedule would allow it. Having had a week off for Thanksgiving, she felt Christmas would prove a little more challenging. But Bill would be in the city for a breakfast speech in a couple of weeks time, so he planned to meet Alex and Olivia for dinner.

* * *

_** "Olivia, I want to kiss every inch of your body, make love to you by the fireplace, slide inside you, hear you say my name as you fall over the edge."_

**A/N**:** Google Translate handled the French, so if it's not right, I'll let you blame them. I studied Latin—four wasted years, as it turns out. People just don't dirty-talk one another in Latin anymore. **_**Such**_** a shame, really.**


	18. Chapter 18

**-18-**

When they got back to work on Monday, the peace and quiet of their time away was quickly shattered. The DA called Alex in, and told her that they weren't going to prosecute any of the ticket-fixing officers of the 8th Precinct. She was incensed. She argued her case, again, but this time Samuels' decision was final, and she got nowhere. She called Olivia as soon as she got back to her office.

"Benson." Liv couldn't break the habit, even when she knew it was Alex calling. But there was no answer. She tried again. "Alex?" Still no answer.

"Alex, honey, is that you?" Finally she heard a ragged sigh, and a small voice that only vaguely resembled the one she was accustomed to.

"It's me, sorry, I'm here," Alex said.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

"I just needed to talk to you. I don't want to get into it on the phone."

"Let's have lunch."

"I can't," Alex said, and her voice broke, just a little, before she could steady it. "Meetings, playing catch-up. Will you be long at work tonight?"

"Not likely," Olivia answered. "You're sure we can't have lunch? Maybe I can just sneak over and treat you to a coffee between meetings?"

"No, better if we don't," Alex said. "If I see you, I'll just fall apart. Better to save that for home. Come to my place after work?"

"You've got it," Olivia promised. "But call me if anything changes, and I'll be over to your office."

"Thanks, babe. See you at home."

* * *

A couple of text messages were the extent of their communication for the rest of the workday, and by the time she made it to Alex's apartment, the attorney was upset again, having had a few minutes alone to process the situation. She explained it to Olivia, and was surprised that Olivia didn't share her level of anger.

"Ticket fixing is as old as God, Alex," she said. "They'll be handled. NYPD will take care of it."

"It's not just one officer, Liv." Alex tried to convey her frustration with having her hands tied on this. "If it's one person, and it's nipped in the bud, that's one thing. I think that's how an officer makes a mistake, learns a lesson. Losing a week's pay is a wake-up call for most."

"Then don't worry," the detective replied. "They'll get that, or more."

"There are too many of them involved here, babe. I think it's part of the culture in that precinct, and I just know there's something else there, but I can't find it. If I could find anything beyond ticket fixing, the DA would fall all over himself to prosecute."

Olivia was sympathetic—she hated dirty cops, felt it made her job harder, took respect away that she'd earned. But the DA had made himself clear, and she felt like Alex was just going to beat her head against the wall and come away with nothing more than a nasty headache.

"Let it go, sweetie," she advised. "If they _are_ doing anything more serious, IAB will find out. Those assholes find corruption even when there isn't any."

* * *

In the second week of December, Uncle Bill came to town, but Alex couldn't get away from the office. She was working with two of her ADAs on an important summation for the next morning.

"I feel horrible, Uncle Bill. We've planned this and I just had no idea the defense's case would be so short."

"Short's good, Alex," he said.

"Well, short would be good, but in this case I don't know. It was quick and lethal, like a nuclear strike, and these two attorneys I have prosecuting the case are suddenly unable to form a coherent sentence," Alex lamented. "I'm worried they might lose this."

"Stay with your ADAs and help them get their thoughts in order. I'll see you in a couple of weeks for Christmas, right?"

"I hope so, but I'm still not sure about Olivia's schedule," she said.

"Well, I can fix that," he replied. "We want to see you, and the road goes both ways. If you two can't come to us, we'll come to you. Your aunt misses Christmas in New York, anyway, so don't worry. We'll figure it out."

"Thanks, really," she said. "And I'm sorry we're canceling on you tonight."

"Who's _we_?" he asked. "Don't you dare make Olivia stay home and miss the dinner I'm planning just because you have to work. She seems like a woman who'd appreciate a great steak, and it'll give us a chance to get to know one another."

"Oh, boy," Alex laughed. "The trouble you two could get into? Fine, I'll stay out of it, but remember how bad it will look if I have to come down to the tombs to bail the two of you out."

She hoped Olivia wouldn't mind the dinner alone with Bill, and she claimed not to. Seemed eager, in fact, to spend some time alone with the man Alex idolized. "Maybe I can finally get some family secrets, and a few stories about you that I can use later for a little blackmail."

* * *

While Alex worked, and grew increasingly concerned about the competence of the two attorneys burning the midnight oil with her, Olivia met Bill at Keens for the best steak she'd ever had. They lingered over dinner and drinks, discussing Olivia's career and her background, Bill's students at Yale and a few hilarious stories about some Manhattan judges with whom Olivia was all too familiar.

And, course, they discussed Alex. Bill wasn't overly sentimental, but the years were ticking by, and time had seemed to speed up after his retirement from the bench. He thought often about his niece's future. She had cousins on her dad's side, and an aunt she'd never been terribly close to, but for the most part, he and Jean were her family. She'd always been the type of person who had a few very close relationships, rather than a hundred superficial ones. He worried about her, wanted her to experience true happiness, and he thought that she might—finally—be on the right path. He felt comfortable with Benson, and looked forward to getting to know her. He knew she had no family of her own, really, so he thought this relationship would be good for both of them.

* * *

As the meal wound down, a friend spotted Bill from across the room and approached the table.

"John!" Bill stood up to greet him with a handshake and a back-slapping hug. "How the hell have you been?"

"Well, I thought I was doing well, but seeing you, I'm not sure. Yale agrees with you, Bill. You look fantastic. What brings you to town?"

"A conference, just in for an overnight to give a breakfast speech tomorrow. Thought I'd squeeze in a family dinner." Olivia beamed, despite herself. "John, you know my niece, Alex. This is her partner, Detective Olivia Benson." The man shook her hand.

"Pleased to meet you."

"Olivia, John Neidorff is an old friend from law school, and he's now the Deputy Mayor for Legal Affairs."

"That's the official title," John joked. "It's less glamorous in reality."

"I know that feeling," Olivia laughed. They chatted for a few minutes, with Bill & John making plans to do some boating and fishing in the spring. A younger man approached from the bar to join them.

"Ready when you are, John."

"Alright then. Judge Bill Harriman, Detective Olivia Benson, this is my colleague, Dev Patel," he made introductions, not seeming to notice Olivia's visible reaction to hearing the younger man's name. "Dev, now that I think about it, you all know someone in common. Alex Cabot is Bill's niece, and Olivia's partner. You worked for Cabot in Major Case, right?"

"I did, indeed," Patel replied. It was clear that Neidorff had no idea that the man had left Alex's bureau under a dark cloud, but in that moment, she made eye contact with Patel, and he knew that _she_ knew. The encounter was brief, to the great relief of at least two of the participants. After they left, Bill turned to Olivia.

"You know Patel?" he asked.

"No, not really, why?"

"Well, I'm not a detective, Olivia, but as soon as you heard his name, your demeanor changed."

"Alex fired him a few months ago for leaking information to CNN, and trying to make her look like the guilty party."

"She never mentioned that to me."

"You know how she is," Olivia said. "She'd keep every problem to herself if she could. If she hadn't gotten a call about it from the Chief ADA at 6 in the morning, she'd probably not have told me either."

"Does she know he's turned up on the Mayor's legal staff?"

"I doubt it," Olivia said. "She probably doesn't know, and she definitely won't be pleased."

Alex didn't know, and was mildly upset when Olivia told her about it later that night, but she was feeling unexpectedly charitable this holiday season, and just let it roll off of her. "Everyone makes mistakes, I guess. I hope he learned his lesson."

Patel, for his part, didn't think much of the encounter. His boss had _not _ known about the circumstances of his departure from the DA's office, and once he'd realized that Olivia had no intention of bringing it up, relief was really the only thing on his mind.


	19. Chapter 19

**-19-**

At the end of the week, Alex found out more than she'd wanted to know about the resolution of the investigation into the cops in the 8th. Not only had she been told to ignore the case, but now she learned that the punishment handed down by NYPD was so nearly non-existent as to be laughable: each officer received a 3-day suspension, without pay, but they could take the 3 days at their own discretion, non-consecutively, any time during the next six months.

Alex had had enough. She made an appointment to see the DA, told his assistant it was urgent, and couldn't wait.

"What can I do for you, Alex?"

"You can give me the authority to bring charges against these sleazebags in the 8th Precinct."

"We've discussed this. It isn't happening."

"The evidence is there, Colin. They got a slap on the wrist from someone wearing kid gloves. How is this okay with you?"

"I'm a politician, Alex. I run for office. I have other considerations besides your rigid concept of justice. No-one died here, it was small potatoes. Let it go. Chalk it up to prosecutorial discretion—if anyone asks, tell them it was my decision not to prosecute. I'll take the heat for this, but you are on notice. Drop. This. Issue."

* * *

She left his office as mad as she'd entered it, and went back to her office in a blind rage. She greeted Ellen tersely, told her she was taking lunch now, and going for a run, if anyone cared. She grabbed the gym bag she kept in her office, changed into her running pants and Climalite garb, and headed out. She normally used a run to think—turn things over in her mind, one puzzle piece at a time, until she saw where each one fit. Today, though, she didn't want to think.

She'd talked to Bill about this, to Olivia, and now to Samuels. None of them understood her obsession with the fact that these people were cops, entrusted with the public's safety and with fairness and with equal enforcement of the laws, and they were flouting all of those principles, and they were getting away with it. Olivia, Fin, Munch, everyone in the 1-6, every cop she _knew, _risked their own lives every single day, and examined their own actions and motives on every case, and tried hard to do the right thing. And the fact that these cops were willing to betray the oath they'd taken for something so petty almost made it worse. They hadn't done it for some important cause or to prove some point. They'd tarnished the badge to save some friends a few bucks on a ticket here and there.

She was trying to ignore the thoughts jostling for space in her head, trying to concentrate on her feet hitting the pavement, and the music in her ears, and the traffic and the cold air in her lungs. She wasn't trying to decide anything, because there was nothing to decide. But somewhere, in the dinosaur part of her brain, she knew she couldn't let this go.

* * *

She let another couple of days pass, and was reminded at odd moments of her conversations with Liz Donnelly, and with the DA.

_You do have friends in the media these days, don't you?_

_If anyone asks, tell them it was my decision not to prosecute._

An idea formed, slowly. It occurred to her that maybe she just needed to force the issue by _making_ someone ask. She'd have no choice but to answer. On the third day, she called the producer at CNN. She spoke, vaguely, about the possibility of them doing a show on police corruption. There had to be cities across the country dealing with it, right? Maybe someone from the DA's office should participate on the panel.

The following Tuesday, a week before Christmas, she took a cab to the network's studios after work one day, refusing their offer of a car service. And it all went as planned—she went on-air, participated in the panel, and when they finally asked the question she'd known would come, she answered.

She said the DA was declining to file charges against the officers of the 8th Precinct, and that it was his decision, and that there were more important crimes to prosecute. Saying, essentially, that some corruption was tolerable, despite the strong stand he'd taken during his campaign. She implied that the decision had actually come from the Mayor's office. And she walked off of the set when the hour was up, and decided not to turn her mobile phone back on, and headed home.

Her reaction was the only calm one.

* * *

Olivia, working late in the squadroom, had turned on the TV after a call from Munch, who was watching at home. She watched the drama unfold, knowing that it probably seemed like nothing significant to the interviewer, to the other guests, but they had no way to know that Alex was hanging her boss out to dry. Her eyes were glued to the TV; every other eye in the room was glued to her.

Bill and Jean, in Connecticut, were told to turn it on by a neighbor, who then told them they'd missed some really interesting parts, and made them come over and watch it again on the DVR.

The DA sat, staring in disbelief, hearing the words he'd said to her, coming back now to haunt him:

_No-one died here, it was small potatoes...prosecutorial discretion...if anyone asks, tell them it was **my** decision _

_not to prosecute. I'll take the heat for this..._

He _had _created a monster, and he was afraid this was going to cost him dearly.

Dev Patel watched it online, having been tipped off by a headline Tweet from the CNN feed for the _Jansen _show. **MANHATTAN EADA:MAYOR, DA SWEEPING CORRUPTION UNDER THE RUG** He immediately thought back to his dinner with Neidorff.

Mayor Stephen Grant had the most heated reaction of them all. _That bitch is out of control. _And he had no use for anything he couldn't control._  
_

Regardless of the dog they had in the fight, each of them wondered if Alex Cabot might perhaps get a little more than she'd bargained for. The woman of the hour, riding home in the back of a cab, couldn't help but consider that possibility herself.

* * *

The next morning, the Mayor was loaded for bear. He got into a shouting match with the DA on the phone, then barked at anyone in his morning staff meeting who dared to even look up from the table. After the meeting, the entire executive staff was glad to clear out, with one exception. Dev Patel, sitting in on the meeting in his boss's absence, lingered a bit, and finally approached the Mayor, who was gathering his things to head to a meeting in the next room.

"Your Honor," he began.

"What is it?"

"I'm Dev Patel, the..."

"I know who you are. Neidorff's office. What do you need?"

"I think I can help you with your problem. Cabot, I mean."

"You worked for her." The man's brain held an enormous storehouse of names and faces, but he often didn't make connections until the need arose.

"I did, sir."

"I don't have all day. You know something, let's have it."

"I was out to dinner with Neidorff the other day, met her uncle, Judge Harriman."

"And?"

"And her lover, Olivia Benson."

The Mayor showed a flash of recognition at the name. That was, he was sure, the pushy girl from Sex Crimes who'd questioned him about Mansfield, who'd implied that he knew something he wasn't telling. "Detective Olivia Benson, from the 1-6?" He needed to be sure, maybe there were two Olivia Bensons in the ranks of the NYPD's detectives. Not likely, but...

"The very same," Patel replied. "Didn't Cabot used to prosecute in SVU?"

"She did," the Mayor confirmed. "Were they lovers then?"

"Not sure," Patel admitted. "But I can check. And if they were, that would surely represent a whopping conflict of interest."

"If they weren't, though, it's nothing but titillating gossip."

"Not necessarily," Dev said. "They are lovers now, and who could prove that they weren't lovers at some point in the distant past? I doubt they could prove it. That would call so much into question, not least of which is Cabot's credibility. Even just refuting the charges would take a lot of her time, and attention."

"But it wouldn't be Cabot on the hook, not really. The role of the prosecutor would nearly always have a layer of protection—never questioning witnesses alone, not collecting the evidence. The detective would be the one in a position to influence testimony, manufacture evidence."

"Right."

"So you can take care of Benson, but it's Cabot I really need."

"It's a serious relationship, Your Honor. Her uncle was as pleased as punch to introduce her. If you get Benson, you'll have Cabot right where you need her. She'd quit her job if she had to, to save the detective's skin."

"Why are you in this office?" the Mayor asked.

"Ironically, Cabot fired me because of an incident with CNN. But Neidorff doesn't know the whole story."

"I don't want to know it, either, to be honest. I mean, what are you still doing in this office when you should be alerting IAB to certain _suspicious irregularities _in the cases Cabot and Benson worked together?"


	20. Chapter 20

**-20-**

Patel was a busy boy, and by 2 o'clock on Thursday afternoon, the rat squad blew into SVU, pulling Benson in for questioning.

"What the hell for?" she asked.

"Let's not do this out here, Detective," Tucker replied. "Captain, we'll need an interview room."

"Take room 2. I'm coming with you."

"That won't be necessary."

"You don't come in my squad without a heads-up, no explanation, and think you're going to question one of my detectives without me present."

"I'm not obligated to inform you. This is between the NYPD and Detective Benson."

"She has a right to have a union rep present."

"You're not a PBA delegate, Don. You're her Captain."

He removed his badge and gun, handed them to Amaro to lock up, and turned to Munch. "John, I'm out for the rest of the day, taking some PTO, got a little business to attend to for the Union. Hold the fort?"

"You got it, Captain."

Cragen looked now to Tucker. "_Any off-duty officer of the NYPD can act in lieu of a certified Patrolman's Benevolent Association delegate on behalf of any fellow-officer_. Shall we, Ed?"

Tucker was red in the face, momentarily outsmarted by his least favorite squad in Manhattan. "Fine, let's go then." He looked at Rollins. "You might make some coffee, sweetheart. This could take a while." Fin stepped forward, not sure if he would have to restrain Rollins, or himself.

Tucker reached out to take hold of Benson's elbow, turning her toward the interview room, but she yanked her arm violently out of his reach and walked ahead. As Don followed them, he stopped for just a second and whispered to Fin and Rollins. "Call the union, but first, call Cabot. Get her over here _now_."

* * *

Rollins made the call to the Bureau Chief's office, told her secretary it was an urgent matter.

"Cabot."

"It's Rollins."

"Amanda?" Alex asked. Rollins had never called her, had no reason to. She felt a cold sweat and a wave of nausea. "Amanda! What's wrong?"

"Cragen told me to call you. It's Olivia."

_Oh no, no, God, no. _

"What happened? Where is she?" Alex was louder now than she realized, her voice panicked. Her office door was open and Ellen had already stood up and was in the doorway, concern etched across her face.

"She's not hurt, she's...she's not hurt. She's okay. I'm sorry, she's okay."

"Then what?" Alex relaxed, just a bit, but this wasn't good. She knew it, her stomach continuing to churn, threatening to bring up her lunch.

"It's...Alex, it's IAB. You have to get over here right now."

* * *

Alex was frantic on the way to the precinct. Olivia and Elliot had spent more than their fair share of time with IAB, but now? It made no sense. She thought of calling her uncle, couldn't, not until she knew what was going on. She called Kate instead.

"Calm down, Cab. What's going on?"

"I don't know, another detective called from Olivia's precinct to tell me that Internal Affairs showed up to question her. Their Captain told Rollins to make sure I got over there.. Don Cragen does not overreact. I'm sure it's serious."

"What could it be?"

"She's done nothing wrong, there's nothing going on lately that could even be considered remotely marginal. Her last few cases have been by the books."

Kate didn't want to upset Alex, but it seemed obvious to her what was going on. "Maybe it wasn't _her_."

"What do you mean? Maybe _what_ wasn't her?"

"CNN, Cab. You've pissed some people off."

"Oh, shit," Alex said. "Shit, shit, shit."

* * *

Cabot flew into the 1-6, not even pausing as she shouted, "Where are they?"

"Room 2," Fin answered.

She continued unabated to the door of the interview room, and opened the door without knocking.

She didn't bother with any greetings.

"Stop talking, Olivia."

"Cabot, what the hell are you doing here? This is none of your business."

"Wrong, Tucker. It's all of my business. I'm her attorney. And she's done talking."

"Her _attorney_?" Tucker was apoplectic. "Have you all lost your fucking minds? No wonder you lasted so long here, Cabot. You're as crazy as the rest of them. Do I need to remind you that you work for the city of New York? You can't represent her in an investigation initiated by a city agency."

"Are you willing to risk your job on what is a rather narrow and uninformed view of the laws and regulations in play here, Lieutenant?" It was a hollow threat, but she'd counted on him not knowing that.

"It's fine, Alex," Olivia interjected. "I've done nothing wrong."

"I need a moment with my client, please."

Tucker backed down, excused himself, and Alex watched him leave the room and turn right. She knew he was standing in front of the one-way glass, knew the speaker was now on, and that he'd hear anything she said. She looked at Don, who walked out and turned off the speaker. "No freebies," he told Tucker.

* * *

When they were alone, Olivia looked at Alex.

"What are you doing here?"

"Rollins called me, Don told her to have me come over."

"I'm fine, Alex. I didn't do anything, so what is there for them to find?"

"You're not _fine, _Liv. What was he asking you?"

"He started out with the Barnett case, Jill Foster, a few other really old ones, ancient history, really. Then he was asking about Mariam Deng, and DiStasio. I didn't see any connection, and his questions were very vague."

"Did he mention me?"

"What is this, Al? Third grade? If you have a crush on him, I can pass him a note in study hall," she joked.

Alex wasn't laughing. "This isn't a joke, Liv, trust me. Just stop talking."

"What are you saying? You think I did something? Do you know what's going on here?"

"I know very little, but I do know you didn't do anything."

"Then let me talk. I'll clear this up. I can't incriminate myself if I didn't do anything wrong."

"Liv, sweetheart, please. Trust me here, he's fishing. It's an old trick, you've used it yourself. He's painting an outline and letting you color by numbers. Anything and everything you say will lead him down some road he didn't even know existed," she said, and hoped she was getting through. "I'm not going to allow him railroad you."

"_Railroad _me? What the hell are you talking about, Alex?"

"I think it's a setup, Liv. I think this is retribution for my calling out the mayor and the DA on CNN."

That information settled in, and realization dawned on Olivia's face. "Fuck."

"Exactly," Alex confirmed. "I don't know who's behind it, but that doesn't matter right now."

"Dev Patel." That was all Olivia said, all she needed to say. She had Alex's attention.

* * *

"What about Dev Patel?"

"The other night, at dinner," Olivia explained. "Remember, when your uncle ran into John Neidorff? Neidorff introduced me to Patel, said I was your partner."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Alex's voice was rising a bit now, a combination of fear and guilt. She had caused this, had put Olivia in harm's way. Olivia misinterpreted the raised voice as anger, and responded in kind.

"I did, Alex. I told you that he was working in Neidorff's office.".

"You didn't tell me that John Neidorff outed us to someone with an axe to grind." As soon as it was out of her mouth, she regretted it.

Olivia stood up and crossed the room, then turned around to look at Alex. "_Outed_ us? Did you just say that to me?"

"Jesus, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant," Alex said. "I just didn't realize that everyone in the Mayor's office knew we were seeing one another."

"I didn't tell them, Alex, your uncle did. And I _was _pretty damn proud at the time," she answered. "I didn't realize I had a fucking target on my back. I'll be more careful the next time I go out for steak!"

Alex stopped. She stopped talking, stopped pacing, stopped the waves of emotion from rolling off of her by sheer force of will. She walked over to the table, gestured to Olivia to take her seat again, pulled out the chair Don had been sitting in, and faced Olivia.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. Bear with me here. I just need to think." She took Olivia's hand, and looked at her, holding her eyes, trying to communicate everything in one look. "Please, for me, just don't say anything. We'll tell Tucker you're willing to sit down for an interview in a couple of days, something, I don't know. I need some time to find out what the hell Patel did."

"Okay," Olivia agreed, not knowing anything else she _could_ do. Now that the pieces were coming together, she knew Alex was right. Anything she said would be a potential trap, a way to pin something on her that she hadn't done.

* * *

They stood up and walked out of the room, passing Tucker and Cragen in the anteroom.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Benson?" Tucker shouted at their backs. "I'm not done with you." Both women whipped around, and Olivia started toward him, was held in place by Alex's hand on her arm.

Alex spoke quietly to Olivia. "Get your things, meet me at the car. I'll be right out."

Olivia was stunned, feeling blindsided and confused. She did as she was told. They all encouraged her as she stopped by her desk, grabbed her coat, locked her desk drawers, handed Amaro some files he'd need. "It'll probably be a day or two," she told him. "Call me if you need anything."

Fin walked her out, waited with her downstairs. Alex was alone now with Tucker and Cragen.

"She will talk to you when she's good and ready to talk to you, and not a minute sooner. I'll call you to set up an interview. "

"I don't know what you two are playing at,"—he looked from Cabot, to Cragen, then back—"but this shit won't fly. She'd better find another attorney, Cabot. I'll have your ass disbarred if you try to represent her."

"And I'll have your badge, Tucker, if you so much as speak to her until I tell you it's okay." Alex was on fire, and Cragen knew Tucker was probably wishing he'd sent someone else to do his dirty work. "You're on a fool's errand, and you're going to regret this. I will take care of this, and then I will take you down."

Tucker left without a word.

Cragen turned to Alex. "Take her home, keep her there. I'll call her tomorrow, figure out what's what."

"I will, Don. Thanks."

She started to walk away, and he almost didn't ask, but he had to know, had to make sure she realized that she'd opened Pandora's Box.

"Alex."

She stopped, and turned to look at him.

"What have you done?"

"I have no idea." Nothing else to say, she left the precinct, speaking only briefly to Fin before getting into the car and driving Olivia away from the 1-6.


	21. Chapter 21

**-21-**

The car ride was silent—disconcertingly so—and Alex didn't know what to do but drive. Sitting in traffic was excruciating. She wanted to console Olivia, beg her forgiveness, pull over and just hold her, find a fucking DeLorean and go back in time. Sadly, Olivia's body language told her that the DeLorean was as real a possibility right now as any of her other wishes.

Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she spoke. They were at a stoplight, and she looked over, reached for Olivia's hand, which was on the armrest between them, squeezed her hand. "Olivia, I don't know what..."

Olivia cut her off. "Don't, Alex. Not now, please. Just wait until we get home, I need to just sit with this for a while, figure out what it means."

Alex pulled her hand back, put it on the steering wheel. "Okay, I understand that."

"Just a little time, okay?" Olivia asked.

"Yes, we'll talk at home, when you're ready."

Matters were complicated when they pulled up to Olivia's apartment building, only to find several photographers and a couple of news vans waiting for them. Alex barely even slowed down before she realized what they were facing. She hit the gas, quickly getting out of camera shot.

"We'll just go to my place, I'll come back later and get whatever you need. This will blow over, probably just tonight, then we can get back to normal." She was chattering, trying to calm herself, reassure Olivia, but the silence from the passenger seat was now deafening. She looked over to find Olivia just staring at her, and wondered if she was in shock. _Can you go into shock from something like this?_

* * *

They were at Alex's just a few minutes later, and the scene there was much the same. This time, Olivia wasn't quiet. "Jesus Fucking Christ, Alex. Look at this."

"It doesn't make any sense. This isn't _news_, not really."

"Sure as shit looks like news to me," Olivia said, with a bitter laugh that Alex didn't care for. At all.

"I mean, this is nothing, just some allegations that won't be borne out. This is not something that should be on the news."

"_You_ are news, Alex. You are a public figure, you've been on CNN for months. You acused the Mayor and the DA of turning a blind eye to police corruption, and your girlfriend is under investigation by Internal Affairs. So Dev Fucking Patel tipped someone off. He's good at that, right? And here they are. I don't blame them, it's a pretty juicy fucking story. They'll be camped out here for days. What in hell are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Olivia."

"You'd better think of something, honey." Alex winced at the sound of it. She'd rather not be called _honey_ at all than to hear it dripping with anger and sarcasm.

* * *

They drove a bit, got away from their neighborhoods, and pulled over on a side street. Alex pulled out her phone, seemed to ponder their options for a minute. Olivia opened the car door.

"Where are you going?"

"I need some air. I'll be in that bar on the corner. Come get me when you've figured something out."

"You need air?"

"Fine, I need air and a _drink, _Alex. Please don't give me the third degree right now."

Alex said nothing, and let her get out of the car, watched her walk into the bar with rounded shoulders and a heavy gait. She thought about who she could call. She would need Uncle Bill's help, surely, but that wasn't the most pressing need they had. Kate was out of town, and Alex hadn't ever gotten a key to her new place. Elliot. She thought about calling Elliot, then just as quickly dismissed the idea. Olivia would kill her. That left only one person. She was fine, really, had calmed down and was making a mental list. Until Ellen picked up the phone. Alex heard her voice and came apart.

"Ellen, it's me."

"Ms. Cabot? Are you okay?" Ellen knew something was wrong, had known when Alex took the earlier call from Detective Rollins, and went into full-tilt worry when the attorney had flown out of the office without a word of explanation.

"I'm sorry, Ellen, I'm so sorry to call you like this, to be so upset."

"Ms. Cabot, what's wrong? Is it Detective Benson? Is she okay?" Alex just cried, couldn't stop long enough to get a word out. She thought of what this would look like to someone walking by, was glad she lived in New York, where no one would probably notice, or care. Ellen's voice brought her back to the matter at hand.

"Ms Cabot?"

"I'm here, I'm here. Olivia is okay, I mean, she's not _hurt_, but we have a huge problem, and it's my fault, and I don't know what to do." She was crying still, again. "Dev Patel was angry with me, he found out that Olivia and I are...he's somehow managed to sic IAB on Olivia...I don't even know what..."

"Alex," Ellen cut her off, wanting to get her attention, deciding that informality was the way to do it. "How can I help?"

"There are reporters, at both buildings, we can't go home. I don't know what to do. We can go to a hotel, but we don't have clothes, or..."

"I'll handle it. Where are you now?"

She gave Ellen all the details, told her she'd call the doorman at her building and have him let Ellen in to the loft. She and Olivia both had clothes there, so she wouldn't have to make two stops.

"Thanks, Ellen, I'll call a hotel and let you know where we'll be."

"Nonsense. I'll call the hotel. You can't use your name. I'll get your things, I'll take them to the hotel and check in, then I'll call you and meet you with the key. You won't even have to stop at the desk."

"I'm being paranoid, I'm sure."

"This is something you don't need to deal with, either of you. Let me handle it. I'll call you in an hour. Stay where you are—it sounds like you could both use a drink."

Alex tried to laugh, but just ended up crying again.

"I can't thank you enough, Ellen. What would I do without you?"

"That is something you _definitely_ don't need to worry about, not for quite a while."


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **It's been pointed out to me that I'm not really one for author's notes, and that much is true, but I feel compelled to put one here. The last chapters are nearly written, probably about 10 of them, and will be posted within a day or two. Many thanks to everyone who has been reading, and for your very kind reviews. The end is near. And, if you've been wonderful enough to stick with me this far, please remember: It's always darkest just before the dawn.

* * *

** -22-**

She gathered herself, and locked the car, and walked into the bar where Olivia had gone to hide out. It wasn't crowded, a little neighborhood joint with low lights making it cozy on this late afternoon in December. There were just a couple of other patrons, since it wasn't yet quitting time for most people, and Olivia was the only person seated at the bar. Alex looked at her watch—she'd been in the car for close to 20 minutes, so Olivia was probably contemplating a second drink by now. She approached her, greeted her with a manufactured insouciance she definitely wasn't feeling.

"This seat taken, beautiful?"

Olivia looked at her, clearly not in a mood to play along. Alex amended her earlier estimate. This might _be_ the second drink.

"Can I sit with you, Olivia?"

Olivia finally nodded. "Help yourself."

Alex didn't speak for a minute, both of them watching a replay of some 20-year-old boxing match on ESPN Classic, and neither of them really seeing it, or caring. The bartender took Alex's order, brought her a Scotch.

Olivia still didn't look at her, hadn't so much as glanced her way again since she'd sat down. Evander Holyfield and Buster Douglas jabbed and shuffled around a ring somewhere in Vegas, and Alex found herself strangely absorbed by it. _The sweet science_, they called it. That sounded more like love than hand-to-hand combat, she thought. Though, when it came down to it, was there really a difference?

"Hitting the hard stuff tonight, Counselor?"

"I think this calls for the hard stuff, don't you? Doesn't look like you're sipping a white wine spritzer over there."

"Point taken," Olivia said, tipping her glass in Alex's direction, then signaling the bartender for another. Alex wanted to object. _I don't think being drunk will be much help to us right now. _But she didn't have the strength to even say anything, knowing all she'd get would be a fight.

After a few more minutes, and Holyfield's KO of Douglas in the third round, Olivia spoke again. "What's the plan?"

"Ellen is going to my place. The doorman will let her in, she'll get us some clothes. She's going to check us into a hotel under her name, and she'll call and meet us somewhere with a key so we won't even have to stop at the front desk."

"Cloak and dagger," Olivia said. "Can you believe this shit?" The question was rhetorical, the answer non-existent. "We did everything right. We didn't date while we worked together. We didn't do any real work on any cases together after we started seeing one another. How is this happening?"

Olivia got up, headed in the direction of the back corner of the bar, looking for a restroom. Alex drained her drink, ordered another. She hoped Ellen would call soon, before she got drunk. When Olivia returned, they sat, not talking, just waiting, staring at the TV, now showing an old football game.

Alex kept replaying Don's parting question, turning it over in her mind, looking at it from one side, then another, but no answer came. It didn't stop her from asking. _What the fuck have I done?_

* * *

Ellen did call, about 15 minutes later, told Alex where to meet her. Alex had moved away from the bar to take the call, and walked back over to settle the tab. She put a hand on Olivia's arm, and the detective just looked at it, like she couldn't decide if she should push it away, or grab it and hold on for dear life. They pulled up at a Starbucks just a few minutes later, and didn't even have to go in. Ellen brought them the keycard, and a note with the hotel address and room number. Alex tried to thank her.

"Ellen..."

"No," Ellen stopped her. "Go, order room service, sleep. Call me in the morning—we'll figure this out."

Alex just nodded her thanks, and her agreement, not trusting herself to even deliver a two-word sentence. Olivia didn't ask where they were staying, and Alex didn't want to tell her. She drove.

As they pulled up outside the Hilton in Midtown, she waited for Olivia's reaction. Liv finally turned and looked at her. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

They handed the keys over to the valet, and walked in, keycard in hand and bags already in the room, so there was no lingering in the lobby. In the elevator, Olivia finally spoke again. "Well, isn't this rich. Your idea, or Ellen's?"

"It's a coincidence, Liv. I didn't tell her what hotel. She just picked one, and this is one the DA's office uses to house overnight guests, so she probably knows someone here."

"You can't make this shit up, can you?"

* * *

They disembarked and made their way to their room on the 14th floor, Alex fumbling with the keycard until Olivia finally took it out of her hand and let them in.

"You ever going to figure these things out?" she said. It was a joke, Alex supposed, but neither of them felt like laughing.

Once they were in the room, with the door closed, Alex took a shower while Olivia sat down on the bed, holding a drink she'd poured from the minibar. Olivia wouldn't join her in the bathroom, and when Alex came out, Liv was just looking out the window at Rockefeller Center, swirling a little whiskey in the bottom of her glass. She liked it on the rocks, but hadn't bothered to go down the hall.

"Want some ice, babe?"

"No, Alex, I don't." Her tone was dangerous, unsettled. She was going to talk now, and Alex wasn't sure she wanted to hear any of what she'd have to say. "Why are we here?"

It was a simple question, on the face of it, but the possible answers were far more complicated.

"I'm sorry, Olivia. I'll figure this out, get everything taken care of. We'll go home, you can go back to work."

"That's not what I meant. Why are we _here? _In _this _ hotel? I mean, the irony is undeniably delicious, but still..."

"I told you, she didn't know. How on God's green earth would Ellen know that you and I had stayed here during the Connors trial? It was years ago, before I even knew her."

* * *

"So many years ago, you're right. Do you remember that night, Alex?"

"I'll never forget it." Alex's answer was simple and honest. "That night got me through 8 years, Liv. There were a couple thousand days when I thought it might have to last me a lifetime."

"And here we are, together again, hiding in this hotel. Too bad we couldn't get the same room, for old times' sake."

"Together," Alex said, then repeated it, thought it warranted repeating. "Together, Liv. We're here together, and when we leave here tomorrow to face this trumped-up bullshit, we'll do that together, too."

"I appreciate the sentiment, honey, really I do," Olivia said, turning now to face her. "But you and I both know I'll have to face this one alone. I'm in serious trouble, Alex, and you can't defend me, can't just go in and smooth this over."

"No, that's not true," Alex argued. "I'm going to figure this out. This is my fault, and I will fix it. I swear to you, I will fix this."

"I want to believe that," Olivia replied, and then sat for a long moment, lost in thought. "I knew I was too happy, that I shouldn't be so happy. I wasn't vigilant."

"Vigilant? What do you mean?"

"The other shoe. I've spent my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. I loved you so much I didn't notice there was only one shoe."

* * *

_Loved. _

Alex noticed the word, past tense, and decided not to say anything. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, but if she called attention to it, if Olivia said it again, then it would be true. Alex searched herself, wondering what she could say here to make this okay. There was nothing. She did the only thing she could do, the only thing that had worked the last time, and hoped that it wouldn't have to get her through eight more years.

She approached Olivia, took her drink, and set it on the side table. She kissed her, and was surprised and relieved when Olivia kissed her back, wrapped her up in an embrace so familiar it felt like her own skin, and picked her up, seating her on the wide windowsill. They kept kissing, losing themselves in kisses, and in one another, feeling like it was the only safe place on earth. They forgot about dinner, forgot about the last time they'd been here, and about what tomorrow would bring. They made love, and Alex had no words, so she just said what she had to say with her hands, and her lips and her tongue.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: You must be at least this tall to ride. Please keep your hands and arms inside the car at all times. It's a sprint to the finish now, hope you enjoy. **

**-23-**

The next morning, Alex called Ellen, found out there were a few reporters milling around One Hogan Place. They worked on a plan to get Alex into the building with a minimum of fuss.

Cragen called Olivia, and filled her in on what little he'd been able to find out. IAB _had_ received an anonymous report, alleging evidence tampering, and witness coercion, in several cases that Alex had prosecuted in SVU. Olivia had been the lead on all of them, and the complaint alleged misconduct designed and executed to ensure Alex got a guilty verdict.

"Captain, it's bullshit."

"Liv, I know that, you don't have to tell me," he said.

"She fired a guy a couple of months ago, for leaking information to CNN. He's behind this, I'm sure."

"Interesting, then, that the complainant took pains to specify that Alex had no knowledge that you were doing these things on her behalf." Like any good cop, he was already pondering a motive. "Why come after you, instead of her? This person made very sure she wasn't under the umbrella of suspicion."

"Because if she's railroaded, it'll make headlines. Her profile's high lately, and no-one wanted to take a chance that she'd go public to defend herself."

"You, on the other hand..."

"Right, I'm just a cop. Someone just lies, tells IAB that she and I were seeing one another back then, or that I wanted to be with her, makes me look guilty as all hell. I might have reporters following me now, but my story won't have the legs that hers would. If I push it, use the media to defend myself, my relationship with her now just fuels the fire, lends even more weight to the accusations."

"Come in this afternoon, Liv," Cragen ordered her. "We'll discuss our options, and figure out what to do. Call your union rep this morning—he got here yesterday but Cabot had already whisked you out of here."

* * *

Alex had to go into the office, so Olivia took the subway, sat in a Starbucks, gave her PBA delegate a call and arranged to meet with him at 1. Alex called her a little before noon. They'd parted that morning with very little conversation.

"How are you holding up, sweetheart?"

"Just great," Olivia said. "Avoiding my home, can't go to my job, so I'm slinking around the city."

"I'm sorry, Liv, I really am."

"I know you are, Alex. I just don't even understand any of this."

"I'm going to figure it out. I'll talk to my uncle when he gets here Monday, see if he can call John Neidorff and find anything out. If we can prove to IAB that the complaint is retaliatory, not to mention patently false..."

"Yeah," Olivia interrupted. "Yeah, maybe that'll help. I hate to drag him into this."

"He's not dragged in, Liv," Alex said. "Wild horses couldn't drag him _away_. He's our family."

Olivia ended the call without saying what she couldn't help but think. _He's your family. I don't have a family._

At her meeting with her union rep, she told him everything: the genesis and duration of her relationship with Alex, the incident that had led to Alex firing Dev Patel, the encounter at Keens that inadvertently alerted Patel to Alex's Achilles heel.

"What does he want?" the guy asked. "What's he trying to get out of this?"

"I don't know, exactly. Maybe he wants her to resign. Thinks that he can force her out."

"But why go after you, and not her?"

"That's the question of the day," she told him. "I certainly make an easier target, don't I?"

* * *

Her meeting with Don was even less encouraging. He asked how the thing had gone with the union rep, gave her what little additional info he'd been able to gather, but she could sense he was holding something back. She'd had enough bullshit for one lifetime, and called him out.

"Whatever it is, just say it, Captain. I'm a big girl."

"I don't want to do this, Liv, but I have no choice." He reached into the inner pocket of his sport coat, and pulled out a letter, handing it over like it was a grenade that had no pin.

She read it, twice, before she looked up at him.

"Get a lawyer, Olivia. We can't trust a PBA delegate on this. Someone's gunning for you and you need to give as good as you're gonna get."

"Yeah, I'll look into that," she said. Then she stood up, folding the letter and sliding it into her back pocket. She took off her badge, and unholstered her gun, laying them both on his desk.

"Liv, you don't have to..."

"I do," she said, and left, not stopping to speak to Fin, or Nick, or anyone.

* * *

She walked home, her rage building rather than dissipating with each step. About halfway home her phone chimed its text message notification. Alex.

**Where are you?**

She held the phone for a minute, looking at it, wondering where she was, and where she was headed. Finally she responded. **Don't know. Don't care.**

Alex read the message in her office. _Don't care what? _she wondered. _Don't care where you are? Don't care if there are reporters still outside? Don't care in general? Or all of the above?_

Alex left work at precisely 5, and headed home, hoping Olivia would be there, or at her place. She had a sense of dread that she couldn't explain, but she steeled herself to listen to anything Olivia wanted to say to her.

She greeted Michael, on duty at the desk. "I don't suppose you'd know if..."

"Detective Benson? She arrived a while ago, ma'am, went on up to your apartment."

"Thanks, Michael."

Alex went on up, let herself in, and found Olivia there, sitting on the sofa in the dark early evening, staring into space.

"Let's talk, Olivia."

"What's to say?"

"A hell of a lot, I'd imagine. We should have talked last night, instead of...I'm sorry, I just needed to feel you."

"Don't apologize for that, Alex. That place held a lot of memories for us," her voice was almost gentle. Almost. "After all, we've fucked away reality there before. Why not do it again?"

Alex really had absolutely no idea if any part of that had been sincere. She hoped so, maybe.

"Liv, honey, I need you to talk to me. What did your union rep say?"

"I told him everything, all that we know. He's _working on it_."

"This may be above his pay grade," Alex said. "I think we should call IAB right after Christmas, set up a time, go in and talk to them on our terms."

"Our _terms_?" Olivia laughed. "I don't _have _any terms, Alex. I'm over a barrel here, all because..." She trailed off.

"All because _what_? Finish that sentence."

"There's no point. Don't, Alex. Don't push me. Nothing good can come out of this conversation."

"Oh, I disagree. Honesty can come out of this. Knowing where I stand can come out of this. I want you to tell me what you were about to say."

"Fine, you wanted it, you got it. I'm about to lose everything I've worked for, all my life, because you wanted to stop 11 assholes in the 8th precinct from fixing a few lousy parking tickets. And your boss told you to drop it, but you couldn't just do what you were told."

Alex was taken aback. Maybe this was more honesty than she wanted. "A few lousy parking tickets?"

"Yeah, really, that's what it amounts to, Alex."

"I didn't realize someone could be a _little _corrupt. You are, or you aren't."

"It's a victimless crime, except now I'm the victim. Don't you see that?"

"_Prosecutorial discretion. _That's what the DA is falling back on."

"He's right. It happens all the time, Alex. In my job, it's called enforcement discretion, but it's all the same. I don't arrest every person for every crime. If I'm pursuing a suspect through an alley, I don't stop and arrest someone for littering," she said. "I look the other way sometimes when it suits a greater purpose. You make those decisions every day, too."

"I do, but not about cops," Alex argued. "You're my example. You hold yourself to a higher standard. Wearing that badge _matters _ to you. So why in hell shouldn't it matter to those clowns? This is about what's right, Olivia, and trust me, if you'd read those files, you'd be on my side."

"It's not that I'm not on your side, but I think you're turning this into Cabot's Last Stand when there are bigger fish to fry."

"I think this is indicative of a larger pattern, Liv. Corruption never just stops, you know that," Alex said. "No-one ever says, _Well, I've enjoyed enough privilege and I've abused enough authority. Better stop now._ No, they just find a new way to cheat the system. You're the most honest person I know, and I'd think that this would piss you off."

"It does, Alex, but shit pisses me off every day. It's pissing me off right now that you won't take anyone's advice and just back off. You don't have to lead this crusade to make a name for yourself. Everyone loves you. You're the darling of One Hogan Place."

"This isn't about that, Olivia. I don't want to be _famous, _this isn't about some ambition you seem to think I have."

"Don't gaslight me, Alex. These ambitions you _don't have_ are going to cost me my badge."

"It won't come to that, Olivia. These allegations against you, they're transparently false, an obvious attempt to discredit me." Alex was shouting, each of them had been getting louder and louder. She heard herself, couldn't believe they were going at each other like this. She stopped, consciously slowed down, lowered her voice. "Nothing will come of it, I promise you. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Did you know it would even go this far?" Olivia asked, her voice quieter now as well, and Alex realized that, no, she didn't, would never have expected this. "You set off an avalanche and now you're trying to dig me out with a teaspoon. And still you want to make it all about you. They're trying to discredit _you_, to get to _you_. Then why am I the one hanging in the balance here? My career, Alex, it's all I have."

"You have me." Alex was hurt, and it showed.

"I thought so, but you have a strange way of showing it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just what it sounds like. I'm being marched to the gallows, but this won't even smudge your lipstick. There's always something else out there for you: private practice, the UN, fucking hair-and-makeup land."

"Excuse me?"

"TV, Alex. You're a hot commodity, Counselor. Your uncle seems to think that MSNBC might want to offer you your own show, to compete against Sloane Jansen."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Is it?" Olivia asked, her eyebrow cocked. "You're smart, gorgeous, Ivy League...why not? My point is, you have options piled on options. If I lose my job over this, what will I do? I'm a cop, a goddamn lifer, and there's nothing else for me. That job is my life, that place is my home, those people are the only family I've got. Don't take me down with you, and then leave me stranded when you start to climb another ladder."

"Is that how you see me?"

"That didn't come out right." Olivia was furious—they both were—and turning on each other when they should be focused on the common enemy. But once you dig in your heels, it's so hard to back down. "Don't twist my words and play the victim here. There's a reason John calls you _Teflon_, Alex. Nothing sticks to you. I'm not that lucky."

"Olivia, please." Alex tried to retreat, give a little ground, but got no answer. "Let's just talk this over, figure this out. You're going to be cleared of this, you'll be fine. _We_ will be fine."

"Will we?" Olivia's face spoke volumes. She was terrified, and fear doesn't mix well with anger. "You just don't change, do you?"

"Do you want me to?"

Olivia was at a loss. She didn't know what to say.

"Alex, no...I don't know what I want. I love you, but you're so goddamn stubborn, and you always think you know what's right. When everyone around you is telling you to back off, to let something go, you just can't fucking do it, can you?" Olivia felt her anger overtake her, and reached into her quiver for the sharpest arrows she could find. The bow was strung. "I begged you to back off eight years ago, but you wouldn't listen, and I lost you for so long that I thought you'd never come back."

"Please, don't, Liv. Don't do that to me. _This _is not _that_. I'll spend the rest of my life wishing I could undo that. Can we just deal with this now, and figure out what we can do?"

"I can't do _anything_, but wait." She pulled a folded paper out of her pocket and handed it to Alex, who opened it and read it. She finally looked up at Olivia, who said, "Go ahead, read it out loud if you like. But I've already memorized it."

"_Suspended without pay pending the resolution of the investigation into your activities and alleged criminal misconduct as a Detective 1__st__ Grade in the 16__th__ Precinct, Manhattan Special Victims Unit._"

Alex was speechless for a long minute, and Olivia wasn't inclined to step in here, to say anything to help her out. The attorney finally found her voice. "Oh, Jesus, Liv. I'm so sorry."

"You can ignore things very well, Alex. You're good at blocking out the collateral damage. But I'm not capable of that. I can't ignore this"—she jabbed at the letter in Alex's hand—"and I can't ignore these."—she placed her finger on Alex's right shoulder, knowing exactly where to find the scars, even covered by layers of clothing. "Those are reality, and I can't block that out. I wish I could.."

Olivia grabbed her coat, and her keys, and left the apartment. The door closed behind her, and still Alex stood rooted in place, holding the letter, wishing desperately for a rewind button. But even if she had one, how far back would she need to go to set this all right?

If she did anything right now, it would disturb the universe, and once that happened, there was no going back. She didn't move for five full minutes, hoping that if she just held her spot and didn't do anything to shift a single particle of air in the room, the door would open and Olivia would come back to talk, to hold her.

She knew it wouldn't happen, but right now, magical thinking was all she had.

* * *

_Do I dare_

_Disturb the universe?_

_In a minute there is time_

_For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse._

_For I have known them all already, known them all:_

_Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,_

_I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;_

_I know the voices dying with a dying fall_

_Beneath the music from a farther room._

_So how should I presume?_

_Excerpt from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_

_by T.S. Eliot_


	24. Chapter 24

**-24-**

Olivia walked. She didn't know what else there was. Heading home wasn't high on her list of things she'd like to do—sitting and wallowing in this didn't seem like a great idea. Her apartment was only a half-mile from Alex's, wouldn't be nearly far enough for her to slough any of it off before she got there.

She thought about drinking. She didn't have to work tomorrow, after all, so maybe tying one on would be just the thing. Something stopped her. She'd had her emotions on the rocks before, but feeling them—all of them—was a new way of being for her. Adrenaline was enough right now; she'd already overcome the rush of it, but had that breathless, exhausted feeling you always have after you hit the brakes just in time to avoid a crash. Except, this time, she was pretty sure she hadn't hit the brakes anywhere near soon enough. She'd said some very ugly things to Alex, things that even in the heat of the moment she'd known would cut to the quick.

It was something she'd learned from her mother. An English professor who loved words, Serena had always sharpened her words to a precise point, and knew exactly where to stick them in, and bury them up to the hilt in your softest, most vulnerable spots. Even at her drunkest, she never lost that fluency. That might sound like a blessing, but it definitely wasn't. It only meant that when she _did_ deliver the crushing blows, you knew she _meant_ them, couldn't chalk them up to some drunken slip of the tongue.

Olivia had a great memory, too, her training having ingrained in her the importance of absorbing every detail she could see, every word that was said. Now, just walking the streets of Greenwich Village, no destination in mind, she had all the time in the world to play it back, relive the worst of what she'd said to the person who mattered most to her in the world.

She told herself it was justified. Damn it, Alex had bulldozed her way through this, was risking more than just herself, though God knows that was bad enough. She thought, every ten steps or so, about turning around, retracing her steps, going back to Alex's and asking for a do-over. But her feet were moving of their own volition, taking her further from any chance she might have to undo this.

It was cold, the Friday night before Christmas, and it seemed that the whole city was out, eating, drinking, being merry. She pulled her coat tighter around her, hunched down in the collar, and kept walking. Her phone buzzed a few times. She ignored it.

She finally felt like going home about 10:30. She was frozen. Her bones ached when she let herself into her apartment. She didn't turn on any lights—threw her coat over the end of the couch, kicked off her shoes, and headed to the shower, then to bed. She didn't expect to sleep, but she couldn't go to work, wasn't ready to call Alex. What else was there to do?

* * *

The next morning, she was surprised to find that she had slept 12 hours, which was about three normal nights for her, all put together. She woke to another replay of the horror show from the night before. She couldn't seem to forget anything she'd said to Alex. Didn't even have the comfort of knowing that Alex was going through the same thing, because she wasn't. Olivia had felt threatened, and gone into attack mode. Alex hadn't retaliated, really; hadn't even tried to defend herself for the most part.

Now she was facing an IAB investigation, an uncertain future with Alex, and a holiday by herself, because she couldn't possibly undo the damage she'd done. She picked up her phone while she was making coffee, had to plug it in before she could even check her messages. When it finally buzzed back to life, there were 4 missed calls and 2 messages, all from Alex. No voicemails, though. Olivia suspected she'd been crying, wouldn't have wanted to leave evidence of it. Her gut clenched, thinking about it.

The first text, at 9:15, said **Please call me.** The second, at 4:49 in the morning, betrayed real concern:

**Please just let me know that you're safe.**

This was so typical, of both of them. When Olivia's emotions were running rampant, she'd cocoon herself: pull the shades, hunker down, sleep as long as she could. Alex, on the other hand, was a study in kinesis: couldn't sit still, couldn't focus. Liv knew she'd probably paced, tried to read a book, made something to eat, but then didn't eat it. And she never slept when she was that upset, especially if there was no clear resolution to whatever was bothering her.

Olivia owed her at least the courtesy of a reply. She knew that, but still took ten minutes to compose one. Should she tell her she was sorry? That she loved her? Alex had said neither. _Petty, Benson, you're being very petty._ But still...

**Sorry, sleeping, missed your messages. I'm fine**

Even as she hit _SEND,_ she knew she was anything but fine.

The reply came almost immediately, but was cryptically succinct: **Thank you**

* * *

Saturday crawled by, and no further contact was made. They were like boxers sent to their corners by the referee. Would they come back out swinging, or was someone willing to throw in the towel?

Olivia wasn't sure which would give her hope, and which would be the beginning of the end for them.

By Sunday afternoon, Alex couldn't stand it any longer. She should have known that it would be on her, that Benson would never come back unless she made the first move. She called, and was shocked when Olivia actually answered.

"Benson."

"It's me."

"Hi." The woman gave nothing away.

"Are you okay?"

"Just peachy, Alex. And you?"

"Not good at all."

"There's a lot of that going around, I hear."

"Liv..."

"What?" Silence. "What, Alex? Why did you call?"

"To check on you, see if...I don't know. Can we talk? Please?"

Now it was Olivia's turn to be silent. Alex waited her out, though, knowing she'd get to it in her own sweet time. If she rushed her, the conversation would end sooner anyway, and as long as they were on the phone—talking or not talking—she could pretend it was okay.

"I don't know what to say," Liv finally answered. "You have any ideas?"

"Just that I'm sorry."

"I know, Alex. I know that you are. And I am, too. But unfortunately that doesn't fix things for me."

More silence, heavy and interminable. Olivia suspected Alex was building a dam to hold back her emotions before she spoke again. Hearing Alex in this much pain was almost unbearably hard for Olivia, but she couldn't bring herself to throw open the door between them.

She relented, just a tiny bit, gave all the ground she could."Give me a few days, Alex. I'm just not ready to talk about this yet."

"Tomorrow's Christmas Eve."

"I know, and I'm really sorry to cancel on your aunt & uncle, but I just can't do it. I'm going to go out of town, I think."

"Where?" Alex asked. "For how long?"

"Up to Latham, I think, stay in a hotel there. Just...be."

"Siena," Alex noted. Liv didn't have family, really, except Simon. Home for the holidays was no different than coming home from work for her. Made sense that she'd head to the town where she'd gone to college, just to be in some familiar setting, someplace with memories.

Alex had the same impulse, had thought about heading to Branford, but she didn't want to chance being out of town if Olivia wanted to see her.

"You'll stay all week?"

"Not long, a couple of days, probably," Olivia answered. "I don't think much will happen with IAB until after the New Year, but I need to set up an interview with them at some point, find out exactly what they're planning."

"You'll need an attorney for your hearing, if it gets that far." Neither of them felt like saying that there was approximately a 100% chance it _would_ get that far.

"Thanks, Cabot, but under the circumstance, I don't know if you're the best choice."

Cabot. When Olivia said that, and didn't laugh, it was a way to create distance between them. Alex felt herself involuntarily hunch her shoulders, folding in on herself.

"Kate."

"Kate what?" Olivia asked.

"Kate will represent you."

"Alex, I can't..."

"Can't, won't...stop. You can, and you will. I want to do this for you. Let me."

"Do I have any choice?"

"No, not really," Alex answered. "I talked to her earlier today. It's not her specialty, obviously, but she's a damn good attorney, and she'll make sure you have every document you can get your hands on, whatever you have to have. I hope it won't come to that."

"Thank you."

"I'll have her call your cell on Wednesday, make plans for whenever you get back."

"Okay."

"Unless you don't go. Away, this week, I mean."

"Alex..."

"Liv, please. Don't leave town. It's still Christmas, come here, be with us. You don't have to stay here, you don't have to talk to me."

"Alex, it's not that I don't want to talk to you," Olivia said. "Please don't make me out to be the bad guy here."

"I'm not trying to."

"I know,"Liv said. "I know you're not. I just can't play happy family right now. I will talk to you, but right now I just don't know what to say. I've said so much—too much—but none of it has changed the fact that everything in my life is fucked up right now, and I can't see a way out of it."

"Okay," Alex said. "I understand." And, even though they hadn't combined their homes yet, there were still practical matters to discuss. "I left my aunt's present over there the last time we went shopping. Can I drop by and get it before you leave tomorrow?"

"I'm heading out early, 5 or 5:30. But no need to get up early on a day off. I'll just leave it here. You have a key."

"I don't want to intrude, if you're..."

"Alex. Use the key."


	25. Chapter 25

**-25-**

Alex got up early on Monday, though _up early_ implied that she'd slept, when what she'd done probably didn't meet the strict definition of the word. She decided to get there before 5, to force Olivia to see her before she left town. Any gesture now could be very right, or very wrong, but Alex wasn't the type to sit back and wait. She'd spent enough years regretting things she hadn't told Olivia, and wasn't going to go down that road again.

She had arrived at Liv's at 10 minutes 'til 5, and when she got to Olivia's floor, the detective was just locking her door, duffel bag at her feet in the hallway.

She turned, leaned over to pick up the bag, and didn't see Alex there until she stood up. "Alex. What are you doing here?"

Alex didn't answer, couldn't speak through tears that had come instantaneously, and from nowhere. Olivia didn't know what she should do. She was still angry, and hurt. But Alex was clearly hurting, too, and it was because of her. It killed her. She made a decision that, for this moment, letting her stand there and cry was cruel, and Liv felt she'd probably doled out enough cruelty for one week.

She opened her arms, and Alex stepped into them, sobbing, shaking.

"Honey." It was all Olivia said. She wasn't ready to say anything like _I'm sorry _or _I forgive you, _so she hoped this could be enough for now. They just stood like that for several long minutes, neither of them speaking. Finally, Olivia loosened her embrace, and looked at Alex.

"You look like shit, Cabot." And Alex started to laugh, but was crying again before she could reply. "Want to come in for a bit?"

"Please." It was the first word she'd said, unsteady and quavering.

Olivia unlocked the apartment again, threw her bag in and pulled Alex in by her hand.

* * *

The apartment was dark, the sun not due up for another couple of hours. They sat on the couch, and felt timid and strange, and afraid of one another, and of themselves. Alex couldn't stand it for long, never could deal with stillness and silence when she was upset. She stood up. "Mind if I make coffee?"

"That's fine," Olivia said.

Alex stayed in the kitchen until it was brewed, gathering herself as much as she could, but was almost undone when she fixed Olivia's mug. Their morning routine was one of the unexpected intimacies that made Alex feel like she would never again find any happiness that didn't involve Olivia. She tried to rein it in, took the mugs to the living room, and sat down with Olivia on the couch.

"I just want to apologize, Olivia. I've made a big mistake, and I never thought about how it would affect you. It was never my intention to hurt you."

"I know, Al. I do know that."

"Then come home. Or let me come home. Or, just don't go out of town, at least. Be near me, even if you can't be with me."

"I gave it a lot of thought yesterday," Olivia said. "And I think we need to take a break."

"I don't need a break," Alex answered immediately.

"But I do," Olivia said. "I have to make some decisions, and I can't do that unless...I just need to figure some things out for myself, Alex. Besides, I don't know what's going to come of all of this. Don't you think it would be better if we weren't seeing one another for a while?"

"Better for whom?"

"For...God, I don't know, maybe for everyone."

"Not for me."

"Alex, please, honey, don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Why not, Liv?" she asked. "Why shouldn't I make it hard for you to leave me? I don't want to lose you, so I can't just step aside and hold the door for you. I'm going to fight to keep you."

"I'm not saying forever, I'm not. Just, while the investigation..."

"Fuck the investigation." The statement was firm, declarative. "I told you I wouldn't spend a single minute denying that I love you, and I won't."

"At the precinct on Thursday you asked me to stop talking, not to say anything more to Tucker. _For me, _you said. Now, for _me _I'm asking you to just let this storm pass by. Let me figure all of this out and try to get out of it with minimal damage, to either of us."

"Then what?"

"Then, we'll pick up where we left off. Or start over. Or, you know, whatever."

"I don't know _whatever._"

"Please, Alex, I just need to handle one thing at a time," she shook her head slowly. "I'm going to go now. Stay as long as you want. You have your key with you?"

Alex nodded. "You'll call me when you..."

"I will." Olivia had grabbed her keys, stepped toward the door.

"I'll be waiting, when you're ready. I love you, Liv, and I know I've hurt you, but you have to give me another chance."

She moved back over to the couch, and hugged Alex, and kissed her, tasting salt on her lips from her earlier tears. "Enjoy the visit with your family."

She left, not saying anything more, knowing that she was so close to just staying, but she couldn't.

* * *

After she left, Alex sat for a while, no desire to get up or lay down or even to think. Eventually, she went looking for the present she'd bought for her aunt. She found it, in the bedroom on the dresser, and remembered abandoning it there a week earlier. She'd been preparing to wrap it, but Liv had surprised her with two warm hands under her sweater, gently tracing her ribs, and the package had been forgotten.

"Fuck." The word came out in a hiss, as if Alex was deflating, air leaking out where the memory's sharp edges had pricked tiny holes in her. She picked up the small jewelry case and turned to leave.

On her way out, she saw a large, flat box on the bed, wrapped, with her name written on a tag, and a note lying on top.

_Alex,_

_I couldn't wait to give this to you. _ _Please open it tomorrow._

_Merry Christmas._

_Love,_

_Olivia_

She gathered it up, as gently as if it was the only thing still holding them together, and took it, along with her aunt's present, back to her place.

* * *

Olivia had called about 8:30 to let her know she was in Latham, safe and sound. They didn't linger on the phone long.

"Will you call me tomorrow, for Christmas?" Alex asked before they hung up.

"I will. Bright and early."

* * *

Colin Samuels had spent all of the previous week in Albany at some time-waster of a conference with the AG. He had watched Cabot's appearance on CNN Tuesday night in his hotel room, and considered bagging the rest of the week and heading back on Wednesday to deal with her. Something was bugging him though, some niggling little doubt at the back of his mind kept him in Albany, and gave him time to think. What he learned, and what he decided over the next few days, surprised even him.

At 9:00 on Monday morning, Samuels called Cabot. He knew she'd answer; she was definitely the type to stand tall on the day of reckoning. He was right, and she picked up on the first ring.

"Cabot."

"It's Samuels. I know it's Christmas Eve, but if you're in town, I need to meet with you for a bit."

"Sure, what time?"

"Eleven, if that works for you. But not at the office," he said. "Let's grab coffee."

"Okay," she said, as neutrally as possible, not sure if she'd have a job by lunchtime.

"Equinox on E. 63rd, that work for you?"

"Sure, I'll be there."


	26. Chapter 26

**-26-**

When she walked in the cafe, it was almost deserted. Samuels was sitting in a back booth, already nursing a huge mug of something. Alex steadied herself, and went to join him. He stood, ever the gentleman, taking her coat and shaking her hand. The calm before the storm, she supposed.

She sat, and ordered, before he said anything. "Thanks for coming, Cabot," he said. Then, as if reconsidering, he corrected himself. "Alex."

"Not a problem," she said. She was wary, and on alert, as noncommittal as possible.

"We have a problem," he said. "Though you're obviously aware of that."

"Yes, sir."

"Colin, please," he said. "We're going to get down to brass tacks here, so let's dispense with the formalities, okay?"

"Okay," she said.

"You've put me in a hell of an awkward position," he said. She opened her mouth, an apology of some sort forming on her lips, but he put up his hand to silence her. "Let me talk first. You're really going to want to hear what I have to say, I promise you."

She nodded, took a sip of her coffee, and waited.

"I should fire you," he began. "By all rights, you should be out on your ass. You know it, too, right?"

She nodded again, confused by what sounded like a reprieve being handed to her.

"And I was prepared to do it. I couldn't decide if I was going to call you, or make Pat do it while I was in Albany," he said. "You really screwed me over, Alex. What were you thinking?"

"You told me to," she said, referring to their conversation in his office in mid-December. Her logic was unswerving, and she stuck to her guns. He had to admit it reminded him of someone.

"Yeah, I guess I did," he said, and laughed a bit. "I'll give you that. You're a lot like I was coming up through the ranks. I should have known you'd see that as a dare."

"I didn't do it just for the sake of throwing you under the bus. I thought there was a larger issue there, and the Mayor was using you, and your office, to cover up something that wouldn't look good in his polls."

"You don't know the half of it."

* * *

"Pardon me?"

"Well, as you might imagine, I spent most of last week figuring out how to deal with you. And I'd just about decided. Then, on Friday, after I got back into town from the conference, I had a call from an acquaintance in Brooklyn," he said. "And he told me some very interesting things. It's a long story, but I think you're going to want to hear it."

Alex leaned forward, despite herself, anxious to hear whatever he was going to say. "I'm all ears."

Two hours later, driving home, her head was throbbing. What he had told her was so insane that it had to be true. He'd declined to name the acquaintance in Brooklyn, but the DA seemed to trust the person implicitly, and the story spoke for itself. The mayor's son Jeffrey, who Olivia had been told was working with the government in China, was actually working for a government _contractor_ in China, a distinction that would prove very important in the tale the DA spooled out for Alex.

Jeffrey was making money doing some dirty work for the US in China, and making even more money on extracurricular activities. And he was using the 8th Precinct—more specifically, some dirty officers in that squad—to do it. Jeffrey was friends with Tim Harper, the precinct's lieutenant—had gone to boot camp with him and served together in Korea for a year. Both men got out after only a few years, Jeff to sign on with Axelrod, one of the major US government contractors in the Pacific Rim, and Harper joined the NYPD. He'd advanced through the ranks, finally coming to join the 8th just a few years earlier. Jeff's postings with Axelrod had seen him in Korea, Vietnam and Cambodia, before being sent to China in 2010.

Like his father, Jeff Grant was smart, and shrewd. He'd done his job there, and kept his head down, while piecing together lots of information that wasn't strictly necessary for his job. Pharmaceuticals were big business in China—and getting bigger. The health care system in China, like most everything else in the behemoth military industrial complex, was fragmented and inefficient. There were thousands of manufacturers, but little government oversight. There were few intellectual property protections there, and the government didn't provide much incentive for the producers to follow the laws. If you weren't going to make much money _in _China, then, why not make it _outside_ of China.

Jeff Grant had looked at all of this and had seen an opportunity: American pharmacies, especially those online sellers who were discounting, needed to make every dollar they could. If they could buy the drugs cheaper—and you can't get them cheaper than the ones Grant was moving from China—then you made more money. He easily found several customers for the product he could smuggle in. Meanwhile, on the front end, he was paying the Chinese manufacturers far more than they'd get for their products there. In exchange for what he paid them, he received partial ownership in the companies themselves. He knew the Chinese were planning to crack down, to dramatically reduce the number of manufacturers and distributors, and he had inside information as to which ones were on the chopping block. He did all of his business with those that would survive, via government connections and healthy bribes.

With his friend, Harper, Jeff had set up a very efficient import operation. They had operatives in customs, and they used the off-duty officers of the 8th Precinct to move the product. They dangled a portion of the proceeds to the dirty cops who would do the work and shut their mouths, hauling in a healthy second income themselves while securing their futures with the ownership stakes they were accumulating in the Chinese companies.

* * *

The officers involved in the ticket probe were, for the most part, not involved in this deal; they were simply benefiting from the fact that their Lieutenant was willing to tolerate their corruption to cover up his own. But Alex had been right—there was much more fire than smoke. The smuggling operation came to the attention of a federal informant, and the FDA took the lead on the case. They had used Samuels' friend in Brooklyn to make a connection with him, needing locals on the case but not sure who to trust.

Now, Alex found herself in the middle of a case so big she couldn't wrap her arms around it: police corruption, drug smuggling, and a host of other felonies. She wondered, for the umpteenth time since she moved to Major Case, what in hell she'd gotten herself into.


	27. Chapter 27

**-27-**

The doorman called up to Alex's apartment around 5 that evening.

"Ms. Cabot, your guests..."

"Please send them up."

"Yes, ma'am."

Alex had spent the whole afternoon pondering what the DA had said to her, making notes, filling legal pads. She was in no mood for small talk, not with the doorman and not really even with her aunt and uncle. She'd slept a grand total of about 17 hours in the four nights since Olivia had left, and it, along with today's drama, was wearing on her. She was little more than a bundle of raw nerves held together by worry and caffeine. Coffee was keeping her up, but also not letting her sleep at night. Damned if you do... As soon as she could get Liv home, she'd sleep for days.

She hadn't told Bill and Jean about IAB, about Olivia leaving, about any of this. She'd hoped everything would be okay, or at least Olivia would be here, present and accounted for, by the time they'd arrive. Now, at dinnertime on December 24th, she was going to have to explain that Olivia's absence wasn't due to simply catching a case. She had given a moment's thought to just that—to lying to them—but they knew her too well, would see through that in an instant.

She opened the door just as they exited the elevator. She hadn't anticipated her own joy, and relief, at seeing them—stepping out into the hall to hug them, her already-bleary eyes burned from the salty tears she was fighting. She kept it together long enough to get them into the apartment, take their bags into the guest room, pour some wine and settle into the living room.

* * *

She filled all the time she could with the usual chit-chat: _How was the drive? Think it'll snow? What time did you have lunch?_

"Speaking of dinner, we're a man down here," Bill joked. "When will Olivia be joining us?"

Alex was quiet for a beat or two before answering. "She won't."

"Oh, she's not working the whole time is she?" Jean asked.

"She's not working," Alex said. "At all."

"What do you mean, Ace? It's Christmas Eve. If she's not working, she'd be here with you, right?"

He didn't notice that Alex was fading fast, completely overwhelmed by exhaustion and rapidly losing her grip on her emotions. Jean saw it, and was next to Alex immediately, perched on the arm of the leather chair with her arms around her niece.

"What is it, baby girl?"

"She won't be here. I've messed up," Alex managed to get that much out before she was doing more crying than talking. Jean looked up at Bill, trying to see if he had any knowledge of this at all, but still rubbing Alex's back, stroking her head as she held her. Bill shook his head, shrugged.

He finally stood, thinking maybe Alex would rather talk to Jean alone. "I'll leave you to your girl talk, Ace."

"No, please don't," she said. "This is way beyond girl talk. I need to tell you both what's going on."

She spilled the story, at least the parts that involved Dev Patel and IAB. She didn't feel like she could go into what the DA had said to her—maybe to her uncle, but her aunt didn't need to be worried about it. They both consoled her, told her it would work out, Liv would be back. She gradually calmed down, and they managed around 8 o'clock to eat dinner. They'd brought lobster from Branford, and Jean pan-roasted it; it was a family tradition dating way back, and one Alex had kept, even when she was in Wisconsin, or Maryland. It had made her feel like she was home, and she was glad that her aunt and uncle had driven down. But she knew Olivia was alone, and it broke her heart.

* * *

After dinner, they talked a while. Jean retired to the bedroom to read, and Alex was headed to her own room to get ready for bed, when Bill called her back to the dining room.

"Have a seat, Alex."

"Why do I feel like I'm in trouble?" she asked, trying for a laugh.

"Why do I feel like you're in trouble, too, Alex?" He was worried, hadn't wanted to show her how much while Jean was in the room. "What are you not telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Ace, you're putting up a pretty good front, all things considered, but there's something else. What is it?"

She looked at him for a long moment, cocking her head so much like her dad that he felt like he had deja vu. Finally, she said, "It's a long story."

"Better deal some cards, then. This could take a while, and we'll need a cover if your aunt wanders out here."

She told him everything. She knew she could trust him implicitly, and she shared every detail the DA had passed on to her. He asked lots of questions, and she could see the wheels turning.

"So, that kid Olivia and I met that night at dinner?"

"Dev Patel," Alex confirmed. "He's the one, I'm sure."

"Olivia mentioned that he hadn't left your office of his own volition. But this is a bit much, no?"

"Apparently not," Alex said. "When he met you both, made the connection between me and Olivia, and her being on the job...he saw a chance to stick it to me, and he took it."

"Ace, I'm sorry. I'd never have told John about Olivia if..."

She put her hand on his. "I'm not sorry about that, Uncle Bill. I love her, and I have no interest in living my life in hiding. I've done enough of that."

He nodded, a serious expression on his face. He knew she was still coming to terms with everything she'd been through—it was only the past year or two that she'd mention it freely. And he was glad that she could talk about it now, but it was like a stabbing pain every time he remembered what it had been like to bury her.

"Alex, what can I do?"

"I hate to ask, but can you talk to John, see what he might know about Patel? I never got to know the guy, really, before I had to fire him. No great loss, I'd say, but maybe John can find out if there's anyone in the mayor's office that he might have confided in."

"It's as good as done," he said.

She felt better for him knowing; having him on her side had never failed her, and she'd never had any cause to doubt him. Which was why he felt like she could tolerate the unflinching honesty that he thought the situation demanded.

"You're in deep here, Ace. Very deep."

"That's what Olivia said," Alex answered, her laugh a little bitter.

"Olivia's smart," he said. "You should listen to her once in a while."

"Tell me about it."

"I take it things were even worse than you let on earlier."

Alex nodded, biting her lip. "She gave it to me with both barrels, and I couldn't say much in my own defense. I deserved it. She had asked me to let it go, and I didn't, and now this," she said. "Liv was angrier than I've ever seen her."

"Understandably," Bill offered. "You've gone out on a limb here, and pushed her out even further. You chummed the water for sharks, Ace. She could lose her badge. You do realize how serious this is, right?"

"I didn't," Alex said. "But I do now. I've got to fix this. No matter how I end up, I have to take care of this situation so that nothing happens to her."

"Without doing anything stupid," he said. "Alex, what you're talking about here is high-level, federal stuff. The last time you got anywhere near something like this..." He trailed off. "I'm an old man, Alex, and I love you like my own. I can't lose you again."

She looked at him, was shocked to see tears in his eyes. She hugged him, tight, before sitting back down. "I'll be careful, Uncle Bill. Olivia said the same thing, Zapata and Velez...I didn't see the similarities until today."

"A dirty cop is as relentless as any drug lord, Alex. When you add in the mayor's son, you've got a lot of people who have a hell of a lot to lose. They'll protect their money and themselves at any cost."

"I know, but there's no way out now," she said. "If I do nothing, Olivia will lose her badge, and I'll lose her."

He just shook his head. "You always did have a passion for justice, Alex, but sometimes you forget that there are people involved, too. Even when you were a kid, you focused too much on _right, _and not enough on _fair_."

"I did rail against situational ethics in my one undergrad philosophy class," she said.

"Why am I not surprised?" he asked. "Do promise me you'll be careful, do the very least thing you have to do to end this situation. And take care of yourself, and Olivia."

"I will," she said. "We'll be okay."

"You'd better be, Ace," he said. "I was just starting to think I could dodder off into my twilight years without worrying about you, knowing you were happy and settled down."

"With a cop, no less."

"No less," he said. "Besides, if something happens to you and your aunt finds out I knew about all of this, we'll both be begging for new identities."

* * *

Olivia called early, as promised, on Tuesday morning. Alex was still in bed, drifting slowly back to the surface, having finally slept. She saw a light at the end of the tunnel, she thought, but she had dreamed of Olivia being away, gone, and not coming back.

"Morning," she answered.

"Sorry to wake you. Merry Christmas."

"I'm glad you woke me," Alex said. "I was having a horrible nightmare. You were..."

"Not before breakfast." Olivia had a long-held superstition that if you told of a bad dream before breakfast, it would come true. Alex hadn't had many, until the last few nights, and it had slipped her mind.

"Sorry," she said, and laughed a bit. "I definitely don't want it to come true."

"Nightmare or not, I'm sorry to get you up. I know you, and I know you're not sleeping."

"Not well," Alex allowed. "Last night was definitely the most I've had in a few days."

"Since Thursday," Liv said. "I know." She decided it was too early for this, changed the subject. "Well, have you checked under the tree to see if Santa Claus came?"

"The only present I care about is the one from you, and it's next to me on the bed. I kept it in here so I'd have it when you called this morning."

"Well, I'm surprised you've waited this long, so go ahead." Olivia could hear the muffled sound of paper tearing as Alex tucked the phone beneath her chin and unwrapped the gift. Then she heard a quiet gasp.

Inside the box, lying on Alex's lap, was a Cunill Barcelona frame, the twin of one that held a picture of Alex's mom, dad and brother, and sat on her desk at home. This one had a picture of her and Olivia, on the lake in Branford. They were both smiling, sun-kissed and blissed out, Alex leaning over behind Olivia with her chin on Liv's shoulder. Her aunt had taken the photo—Alex had never seen it, had asked so many times for a copy that she'd given up hope that her aunt would ever actually send it. Now she knew why it had never come. The two of them had conspired to keep it as a Christmas surprise.

"Olivia..." She couldn't say anything else. She was overwhelmed.

"Do you like it?"

"You know I do. I love it. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Alex."

"No wonder my aunt kept _forgetting _ to send me the pictures from that trip," Alex laughed.

"Yeah, she's my co-conspirator," Olivia said. "She'll be sorry she didn't get to see you open it, though."

"Neither did you. I wish I'd opened it with you here, Liv."

"I know," Olivia said. "But I didn't want to wait to give it to you." She paused for a moment, seemed to be weighing what she wanted to say next. Alex had learned over the years, at work and at home, that patience was important in these moments with the detective. If you charged in, filled the space with words and movement, you might never find out what she'd been about to say. "That's a good memory, Alex. I hope you'll still want to put it up somewhere, look at it once in a while."

"It's going by my bed, where I'll look at it every day," Alex said. "There _will_ be more good memories, Liv."

"I hope so," Liv said.

"I know so," Alex said. "But I feel bad. I've opened my gift, while yours is here under my tree."

"Where it belongs."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'll get it. At some point, Alex, I'll get it."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

"I'm counting on it," Olivia said. Her voice was quiet. Alex pictured her, sitting in a hotel room in Latham, punishing Alex by punishing herself, and it made her indescribably sad. "Sweetie?"

That single word went straight to Alex's gut, warmed her like a shot of whiskey on a cold night. "Yeah, babe?"

"Don't lose hope. I'm not easy, and I'm more than a little broken, and I don't deserve you. But I _do_ love you, so please don't give up on me."

"Never. I love you, Liv." Alex felt better than she had in days.

* * *

She had been dying to tell Olivia about the conversation with the DA, but he had been adamant that it stay between them for the time being, while they hashed out a plan. She'd already broken that pact once, but she knew that Bill could keep it to himself. Olivia was too emotional right now, would want to go charging off to do something they'd both regret.

Her aunt and uncle were planning to head home on the morning of the 26th, assuming Alex had to work. She'd withheld from even her uncle that the DA had given her the week off, saving face for himself by calling it a _suspension_ for her CNN stunt. She planned to use the time to do a little research, and to brainstorm with Kate about Olivia's troubles with IAB. With any luck, she could persuade Liv to come home soon.

_*Thanks to tuesboomer for helping me get the phrasing I needed. I tweaked it a bit, but the gist of it was all you._


	28. Chapter 28

**-28-**

Olivia had kept in touch, as promised, and though the conversations they'd had were brief, more notable for what wasn't said, Alex was determined to keep her promise, and not lose hope. Liv had texted on Friday morning to let Alex know she was back in the city, and planning to meet with Kate that afternoon at 3. With the detective finally back home, Alex hoped they could spend some time together, and close at least some of the space between them. She knew Liv, knew she'd have to tread lightly. If toes were stepped on now, she'd bolt.

Alex had texted her back, asking if Olivia wanted her to come along to see Kate. The reply was a polite, but definite, no. She wanted to keep her out of this, determined to protect Alex, even though Alex hadn't been able to protect her. Letting her arrange things with Kate had been as much involvement as she'd accept.

And Alex knew Kate would never share anything Olivia told her—shouldn't, of course, but wouldn't violate the detective's confidence even if she were allowed—so she'd have to trust Kate to get this right. She'd owe her big, but would gladly pay any price to extricate Olivia from the nightmare she'd thrown her into.

She made one last stab at contact just before Liv met Kate. **Call me when you're done?**

Olivia simply replied **OK**

Alex fidgeted and fussed her way thorough the rest of the afternoon, trying to absorb the minutiae of Chinese pharma, and the more mundane details of Jeff Grant and Tim Harper's stateside get-rich-quick scheme. Crime, after all, was crime, and however outlandish the framework, the bones of it were always the same. Greed, or lust, or any combination of the seven deadlies, writ large. Even if you subscribed to the myth that the Inuit had 400 words for snow, it still all had to be shoveled off the walk. And Alex was from upstate, knew snow. Whatever the word, this was a blizzard.

The further she got into it, between what the DA had told her and what she could find out on her own, the more she was dying to get into the office, powwow with him, and get rolling. But he'd told her to sit tight, and for the first time in a long time, she'd done exactly as she was told.

* * *

Olivia, meanwhile, was with Kate at a restaurant near Kate's office.

"Kate, I don't know how to thank you for this. I'm sure your going rate is more than I can afford, but I do want to figure out some way to pay you, eventually."

"My going rate is actually _zero,"_ she replied. "Bailey, Baker & Harris pay me to do _pro bono_ work so they can kid themselves that they're not complete mercenaries."

"I know, Alex told me, but..."

"Did she also tell you that it's the only thing that lets me sleep at night?"

Olivia laughed. "Well, come to think of it, she _might _have said something about it being the only thing between your soul and eternal damnation."

"Damn prosecutors," Kate laughed. "Always grandstanding. How do you live with that showboat?"

Olivia got quiet, and Kate reminded herself, as she'd had to on the phone with Alex, that these two were an emotional minefield right now.

"Does defending a cop from IAB fit in with your firm's idea of worthy _pro bono_ work?"

"I have a great deal of autonomy here, Olivia, and I _do_ consider clearing a decorated, dedicated cop of the bogus charges leveled against her to be a very worthy use of my time."

Olivia was grateful, and could already tell that Alex's earlier testimonial had been correct: Kate was a damn good attorney. Alex had given Kate an outline of the situation, and Olivia filled in what little she could add. The attorney took copious notes, nodded frequently, asked lots of questions.

When Olivia was finished, Kate looked at her. "This, Olivia, is a fucking mess, if you don't mind my saying so."

"I was afraid of that," Olivia said.

"Not for you, though," Kate went on. "For them."

"What?"

"Yeah, it's a clusterfuck, really. Patel has gone to them with nothing more than rumor and innuendo, and they've jumped on it. They forced your old partner out through repeated harassment and intimidation, and now they're trying to do the same to you."

Olivia wasn't connecting the dots yet, couldn't see what Kate was seeing very clearly. "But Patel couldn't have known all of that, or what's in my jacket. Or even the Stabler thing."

"He could have, actually, given the company he's apparently keeping. He's a small fish who doesn't realize that the predators he's swimming with will turn on him as soon as he's no longer useful to them. But whether he knew anything about you, or not, is irrelevant to me."

"How so?"

"What's going on here is a perfect storm—two people with two wholly separate motives, whose paths have crossed, and who have the same target in their sights. Patel wants to hurt you in order to politically marginalize, or even neutralize, Alex. Meanwhile, IAB—or, more specifically, Tucker—sees this as an opportunity to get rid of you, just like they did with..." She looked down at her notes.

"Stabler," Olivia supplied.

"Right. You guys must have really done something to piss that guy off, huh?"

Benson laughed, just a bit, and could feel the clouds part ever so slightly. Kate's confidence was contagious. "We've had more than our share of run-ins with him, yeah, and made him look like a dog chasing his tail a few times."

"Which came first, the chicken or the egg?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, some routine something-or-other brought you into his orbit years ago, I'd assume, but you—your entire squad, really—have now become his White Whale, it seems. So, I have to ask, is he out to get you because of something you've done, or is everything you've done an excuse for him to come after you?"

* * *

Olivia didn't know the answer Tucker just..._was. _You didn't think about _why_ IAB rode your ass for the slightest little thing, just like you didn't wonder why defense attorneys were always full of shit—present company excluded, of course—or why DA's always thought there wasn't enough evidence. He'd been there, on the periphery of her existence, as long as she could recall, and would probably be the last of them left standing, having sold his soul to the devil long ago in exchange for an eternity spent hounding the SVU detectives.

"I never thought about it," Olivia said.

"Well, think about it now," Kate said. "Have you ever had repeated dealings—_any _dealings, really—with anyone else in Internal Affairs?"

Olivia shook her head. _No_.

"That's what I thought," Kate said. "I think Patel's not the only one with a hatchet he wants to bury in someone's back. Right after the New Year, when the wheels of government resume their slow rotations, I'm going to get some files that might answer a few questions."

"Okay," Olivia said. "When will we sit down with Tucker for my interview?"

"We won't," Kate said firmly, and began sliding her notes into her messenger bag.

"We won't? At all?"

"Never," Kate confirmed. "Nothing to gain from it. We're going to do our legwork, and then we're going to request an administrative hearing as soon as possible.

"Really?" Olivia asked. Kate just nodded. "But what about Patel?

"What about him?" the lawyer shrugged. "As far as I can tell, he's like one of those extra screws they put in those cheap do-it-yourself furniture kits: _looks _important, scares you for a minute because you think you missed something, but in the end, it's just some shit that rattles around and makes noise when you throw away the box."

Olivia laughed. "I hate those damn things."

"Me, too. Look, Olivia, Patel's just a bother, a bug smeared on my windshield," Kate said. "And I know you're not supposed to kill the messenger, or whatever the saying is, but if I can manage to take him down during this whole thing, I'll gladly do it. I just don't think he's our main focus here."

"So, if we don't agree to an interview, and assuming it'll take a while to get the information we'll need, I just sit around my house until when?"

"Sit around, my ass," Kate laughed. "You're going back to work."

"But, the letter..." Olivia protested, gesturing now at Kate's bag, where the attorney had stashed the suspension document along with all of her notes.

"Don't worry about that. I'll get that lifted, no problem. I'll file the appeal right after New Year's, throw in a few threats for good measure. You should be back at work by Monday the 7th at the latest, though knowing NYPD they'll punish you by making you come back in and work that whole weekend instead. You'll probably have to do some desk duty while this all plays out, but I figured you could live with that."

"At SVU?" Olivia asked. She was having trouble believing this could be so easy.

"Hell, yes, at SVU," Kate said. "I can do a lot of things, Olivia, but getting you transferred to something cushier will have to wait."

* * *

Olivia just looked at her, wanted to laugh but couldn't wrap her head around any of this. It was like her synapses had been reconnected into some new pattern. Kate was telling her that everything she'd been worried about—everything about this that _seemed_ important—wasn't really any concern. And things she'd taken for granted—Tucker was an asshole, just like the sun rose in the east—might be much more important than they seemed. Kate could tell that Olivia was trying to take in all this information, put it in some order that made sense to her.

"Trust me, Olivia, I know what I'm doing."

"I know you do, it's just..."

"Your recent history of trusting attorneys hasn't really panned out for you?" Kate smiled at her.

"It's not that," Olivia said. "I know that Alex wasn't trying to do anything to hurt me."

"She wasn't," Kate said. "You're right about that. But, she managed to do it anyway, didn't she?"

Olivia just looked at her, not sure how to answer. This was Alex's best friend, baiting her into saying something disparaging about the ADA.

"It's okay, Olivia, I love her, but she has her flaws. And I've already said this to her, so don't think I'm speaking out of school," Kate said. "But, she does love you. Losing you over this—losing you at all, really—would be devastating to her."

"Kate, I appreciate what you're saying, and I know you love Alex. I do, too, but I can't just run back there and act like nothing happened."

"Oh, I know. You can't, and you shouldn't. But can I ask you to just keep one thing in the back of your head while you're working through this?"

"What is it?"

"Her downfall has always been that she wants so badly to do the right thing, and to be the best, and to be loved," Kate said. "Unfortunately, she has a talent for sometimes getting herself into spots where those three things are mutually exclusive."


	29. Chapter 29

**-29-**

When Olivia left Kate at 5:30, she felt like she had a new lease on life. She called Alex, who answered without even looking at the phone.

"Cabot."

"You still at work?"

"No, at home," Alex said, a lie by omission. She needed to break the news of her apparent suspension with a minimum of fuss, to save her some of the inevitable questions.

"I just finished talking to Kate," Olivia said.

"And?"

"And, she thinks this is a slam dunk, that I'll be back on desk duty after New Year's and that we'll request and win a hearing within a few weeks or so, get me fully reinstated."

"I told you she was good, babe."

"She is," Olivia agreed. And then, feeling like everything was maybe going to go her way, she decided to push her luck. "You busy tonight?"

"What kind of busy would I be, Detective? I'm seeing someone, so my Friday nights are sort of blocked out from now until, you know, ever."

"Thought you might have some work to do, or something."

"Not tonight," Alex said, and once she was telling this lie, why not just keep telling it? "I feel like a prisoner, chained to a desk all week." She had been, really, it just didn't happen to be the desk Olivia was probably picturing.

"A prisoner, huh?" Olivia laughed. "Earned any conjugal visits yet?"

Alex was shocked, and pleased, but kept her voice level. _Keep your hands where she can see them, Cabot, no sudden moves, don't scare her off._

"Well, I _have _been good."

"Oh, too bad," Olivia said. "I was in the mood for naughty."

"I can do that, too. Get your ass over here."

* * *

Olivia arrived at Alex's apartment a half-hour later, and knocked on the door. She didn't know if this was a good idea, or a very, very bad idea, but she'd missed Alex more than she'd thought possible. She'd just keep it light: sex, dinner, back home. Alex answered the door. "Lose your key?"

As soon as Olivia saw her, she stepped forward, pushing her foot against the door to close it, and wrapped Alex up, kissing her frantically, turning their bodies and backing her against the wall. They were both short of breath, all hands and arms and mouths. For many long minutes, they breathed only when they had to, content to consume each other as if thought and conversation and restraint were all luxuries they couldn't afford right now.

Finally, Alex pulled her head back, laying it against the wall behind her, and spoke. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Olivia said, and then moved to Alex's neck, using her tongue and her teeth to explore every millimeter of the fair skin exposed there, marking her, Alex was sure. She didn't mind. Alex was absolutely vibrating with desire as Olivia unbuttoned two buttons on her shirt and spread the collar wide, dragging her mouth from Alex's earlobe, down her rapidly pulsating carotid artery to her shoulder, across her collarbones and back up the other side.

"Bed." Alex barely got the word out between moans.

"What?" Olivia asked, never stopping, unbuttoning more buttons and trailing her tongue over the swell of Alex's breasts, and into the delicious hollow between them that smelled of Alex, and sweat and perfume, and home. Her hands were on the attorney's ass, her hips, her tits, everywhere at one time, it seemed.

"Bed," Alex repeated. "Take me to bed, Liv, I can't stand up."

"I can't wait that long," Olivia said, and knelt down, unbuttoning Alex's jeans and pulling them down to her knees, yanking her underwear down even faster, and immediately sliding her tongue into the wet heat she'd missed so much. Alex had both hands on Olivia's shoulders, was leaning over, letting the detective bear some of her weight. She didn't know how long she could stay upright.

"Get out of these pants," Olivia commanded, and ran her hands down Alex's calves, sliding the pants to the ground and helping Alex to step out of them. Alex just slid down the wall until her knees hit the floor, straddling Olivia's own bent legs, and put her hand in Olivia's hair, pulling—not hard, just enough—until Olivia's head rolled backward, lifting her face to Alex's.

The blonde stared at her for a long moment, and then their lips were together, and Alex was begging into Olivia's mouth, between kisses.

"Fuck me, please. Please. Please, fuck me, Liv." The fact that Alex was unfailingly polite even when she was so incredibly, desperately turned on was almost more than Liv could handle. She brought her hand up between them, slid two fingers in Alex's mouth and felt her own muscles clench up when Alex grabbed hold of Olivia's wrist, held the hand in place, and lavished attention on them with her tongue. She opened her blue eyes and looked directly at Olivia, before taking a third finger into her mouth. After only a second, she pulled the hand out and pushed it down between them. "That's more than wet enough," she said.

Olivia used her fingers to give Alex what she wanted, dragging them up and down through the slick folds before sliding three fingers home, and lowering her other hand to the small of her back. She let Alex set the pace but held her up, kept her steady, and she came in just a moment, reduced to incoherent religious acclamations and more of that incendiary begging.

She recovered quickly, and took Olivia there on the floor, sharing the detective's unwillingness to stop long enough to get to the bed.

* * *

Afterward, they lay naked on the floor until the cold evening seemed to seep into the floor, and into their bones. They hadn't said much, weren't inclined to now. They both realized the fragile state of things. Finally, Alex turned on her side, facing Olivia, and scooted closer. She drew one finger down Olivia's forehead, tracing her profile, then trailing the fingernail lightly down her chin, her throat and between her breasts. She leaned into Olivia's ear.

"Liv?"

"Alex." It was a statement, because Olivia wasn't ready for questions, asked or answered.

"I'm hungry."

Olivia laughed, a huge laugh, her first real laugh in over a week. It felt good. "I should have known," she said.

"What, did you think I was going to whisper sweet nothings in your ear?"

"Maybe," Olivia said, turning to look at her. "Though they're generally not _nothing._"

Alex grew serious, for just a moment. "I get the feeling you're not ready for that."

"Are you?" Olivia asked.

"I don't know."

"Me, neither."

* * *

They finally got up, the floor having lost whatever lavish comfort it seemed to offer a while earlier. Liv put her hands out, helped Alex to her feet. "Food."

"Yes."

They dressed and went out for a burger and beer, talked over Olivia's meeting with Kate, and Bill and Jean's visit, and Liv's trip upstate. Alex told her, finally, that the DA had called her on the carpet. She didn't share anything about the investigation they were about to undertake, but she knew Olivia would be wondering how Samuels had responded to the CNN blitzkrieg.

"He suspended me," she announced. Technically, anyway, it was true.

"Oh, no," Liv said. "For how long?"

"Just until the 2nd."

"Thought you'd been chained to a desk all week," Olivia said.

"Well, I was. It just happened to be my desk at home. Just because he needed to save face in the office doesn't mean there isn't work to do, right?"

"True," Olivia agreed. "You got off lucky, you know. That could've been a lot worse."

"Oh, he made a point of telling me I should be fired, but he said I reminded him of himself."

"Good thing you're such a charmer, Cabot."

On the way home, Alex thought maybe the door was open enough to talk about the elephant in the room. "Will you stay over tonight?"

"I'd better not, sweetie."

"Why not? We did just make...have sex."

"It's okay, you can say it. We _did_ make love, Alex. I _love_ you, even when I'm angry. Even when I'm an asshole who says horrible things and runs away, I love you."

"I love you. So come home." They had two homes, had always had two homes, but Olivia knew what she meant. _Come back to me, completely. And stay._

"I will, soon, but I'm just not ready, Al," she said. "I can't jump back in quite yet."

Alex was disappointed, but said nothing.

"Conjugal visits aren't overnights anyway, you know that," she joked, but got no response. She stopped walking, and turned Alex to face her. "I want to, sweetie, believe me."

"Then do it," Alex said. "Just do it. I want you with me."

"It's not a good idea right now, for either of us. With my hearing and your suspension, we need to watch ourselves. We can't risk it."

"Okay," Alex said. That was all she said.

"Do you understand?"

"No, I don't. But I'm in no position to make demands, so I'll do whatever makes you happy."

Olivia didn't tell her that what would make her happy was putting all of this behind them, pretending it had never happened, and going home: one home, theirs, forever. She wanted to say it all, to drop down on one knee here on the street, but she knew it wasn't the time for it.


	30. Chapter 30

**-30-**

When Alex returned to work on the 2nd, they'd been able to spend a lot of time together, but she knew Olivia was wary, and tentative. Alex was patient, was very _good_ at being patient, when she had to be. She reminded herself every day, several times a day, that she'd waited much longer than this to love Olivia, that she was lucky they were even speaking at all after the mess she'd made.

And, truth be told, she'd needed some time to herself to continue her research, wanting to be fully prepared for whatever her first day back would hold. She was glad she had. Her return to the office had allowed her only a brief conversation with Ellen—she'd sent flowers and wine to Ellen's apartment, knowing it was a meager thanks for her help during the onslaught of the crisis, but sure that doing anything more than that would embarrass the woman. They caught up, Ellen assuring her that nothing exciting had happened in her absence.

"You picked a fine week to get yourself suspended," Ellen joked. "Christmas to New Year's is always a dead week, anyway, and hardly anyone was around to even realize you were out."

"Good, I'm glad my misbehavior was noted and gossiped about by as few people as possible.'

"Oh, I didn't say that," Ellen laughed. "When they all come back, today or Monday, they'll still gossip about you."

"Well, it's endlessly comforting to me to know that the professionals in this office are so far ahead of the game that they have plenty of time to effect justice _and _ to discuss my numerous failings and misadventures."

Ellen knew her boss was making light of something that was probably much more serious than she was letting on.

"How is Detective Benson?"

"Olivia is fine, as well as can be expected," Alex said. "Thanks for asking. When this is all over, Ellen, we're sending you on a trip as a thank you."

"Nonsense," Ellen said. "But I am sending you on a trip, right now."

"Some exotic locale, I hope?"

"The DA's office, in less than ten minutes." Ellen returned to her desk while Alex gathered up her things. As she walked out, headed to the meeting with Samuels, Ellen spoke to her.

"Ms. Cabot?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever get suspended again, please. When you're gone, this place isn't nearly as interesting."

* * *

The DA's secretary was away from her desk, and his office door was open.

"Cabot, come in. Jackie's on vacation, so the drawbridge is down to one and all."

She walked in, and closed the door behind her. She waited for him to speak. Even though she felt like things were okay, and that subsequent events had justified her actions to a certain extent, she knew she'd screwed up, and wasn't about to press her luck. Ass-kissing had never been her forté, but she was willing to try.

"Cabot, regarding our discussion last week."

"Yes, sir?"

"We're not going to meet about that here. You're in here for the sake of appearances. The few folks who are around can assume you're taking your lumps, if they even care to notice."

She nodded. He passed her a note, and she read it.

_IRS Office, 110 W. 44th, Suite 240, 11 am_

She nodded again, indicating her understanding. They'd have to talk to the Feds, couldn't be seen doing that here without the potential for alerting someone. After the Patel issue, and everything else going on, neither of them felt they could trust anyone else. They'd have to stand or fall together, and they both knew it.

"See you there," she said, and stood to leave. As she reached the door, the sound of his voice made her turn around.

"Cabot."

"Yes?"

"I don't make it a practice to get involved in people's lives around here, but I know about the situation involving Detective Benson."

"It's not a problem," Alex said. "There's no conflict of interest."

"That's not what I was worried about, actually," he said. "John Neidorff spoke to me about it. He's sure it was Dev Patel who filed the complaint with IAB."

"He's right," Alex said. "But I don't know that anything can be done about it."

"Don't be so sure, Alex. Patel has crossed too many people, and I think he's in over his head. You focus on this case, and I'll see what I can find out on that end."

She looked at him, not sure if she should trust him completely. But what was there to lose, really?

"Thank you."

* * *

At the meeting with a half-dozen federal agents from the FDA, FBI and IRS, they found that the case was wider-reaching than they'd imagined.

The lead agent, an FDA guy named Josh Coleman, laid out the case for them, with the other agents frequently piping in with details. And there were a lot of details. Now that they had local involvement, they expected to insert an undercover into the unit within a week or ten days to get the additional evidence they'd need to go after Grant and Harper.

"There's going to be all kinds of fallout from this," Coleman said. "You're here to clean up the local part of the mess, take care of whatever the hell else is going on in that precinct. I'm sure the UC will find out more than just what we're after."

Alex and the DA asked questions, but took no notes. Alex wanted to know if the mayor was involved, of course. Coleman said they couldn't be sure yet. They were currently operating under the assumption that he was involved, and would keep him under surveillance, with a wiretap. As the meeting wound down, Coleman's partner, a petite, raven-haired woman named Andrea Warren, felt there was one more thing that needed to be said, and she was speaking to both of them, but it was Alex she was focused on.

"This is big time," she said. "I want to impress upon you that we're talking about millions of dollars in smuggled pharmaceuticals here. No-one making that kind of money is likely to give up without a fight."

"We understand the ramifications," Samuels said.

"Do _you_ understand, Ms. Cabot?" Her look was pointed, and Alex knew that Agent Warren—maybe all of these agents—knew about her time in WitSec, and the case that had preceded it. "If we say run, you run. If we say stop, you stop. You will do as we say, or you're off the case. Understood?"

"Thanks, Agent Warren, I know the drill."

"So I've been told," Warren replied. "I'm here to ensure that you don't forget it."

* * *

While all of this was going on, and more clandestine meetings would be arranged as necessary to brief the two attorneys on the investigation, Alex was also working a burglary case with Goren and Eames, two Major Case detectives she'd known in passing but had never really gotten acquainted with. Eames was hilarious, and a hell of a detective. Alex liked her instantly. Goren, on the other hand...he was a challenge. He was clearly some kind of genius, but it was the _some kind_ part that troubled Alex. Dealing with the two of them was an interesting enough distraction from her preoccupation with the other case.

During their dinners and increasingly frequent not-sleepovers, Alex regaled Liv with tales of Bobby Goren's interrogation techniques, since she couldn't tell her anything about what was really on her mind.

Kate had been as good as her word, and Olivia had been back at work on Saturday the 5th, pushing paper around the 1-6 and taking over Rollins' usual role of cyberdetective. She was bored off her ass, but wasn't going to complain. Kate had worked magic, gotten her back to work, gotten IAB to back off while she gathered the evidence she wanted, and she thought they'd be ready to schedule the hearing within two weeks or so.

At home, Olivia was questioning herself. What was she proving, to anyone, by not sleeping at Alex's, by depriving herself the pleasure of waking up next to her in the morning? Things were thawing rapidly between them. Olivia had reason to hope that she'd escape the IAB thing with nothing more than a suspension, if that, and Alex had survived what could have been a fatal mistake in the DA's office. Her stories about Goren and Eames were endlessly entertaining, and Olivia felt things settling back to something approaching normal.

Alex had stopped asking Olivia to spend the night. She'd said, "You know that I want you next to me, every night, all the time, Liv. But I won't hound you. When you're ready, tell me."

"I will." She wasn't ready quite yet, but soon.

* * *

And so it was that in the small hours of Monday, January 21st, an exhausted Alex was asleep in the loft, and Olivia was blocks away in her own apartment and in her own bed, when someone set Alex's Mercedes on fire in the parking garage by her building. The security cameras caught a figure who couldn't possibly be identified, and the camera nearest the car was melted by the heat of the flames.

The front of the car, where the fire has started and burned the hottest, was a ruined grey mess. The back end was little more than a constellation of bubbles and blisters in the black paint. The message was quite clear to anyone familiar with thugs and their intimidation tactics. _Back off_. And while that was terrifying, it didn't even begin to approach the fear Alex felt when she saw the wall outside of her apartment had been graffiti'd with red paint.

Officers had knocked on her door, after a check of the remaining license plate had identified her as the owner of the burned Benz. They were coming to break the news to her, question her about who might have a reason to torch her car. When she opened the door, bleary-eyed and uncomprehending, what she saw was a doorman from her building named Phil, along with two patrol officers. All three were standing several feet back from the door, and staring at the walls. Words the color of blood were spread down the wall, and across the door. Three words, three such normal words that the cops were, understandably, completely baffled by the significance of the writing:

_Alex_

_Emily_

_Sarah_


	31. Chapter 31

**-31-**

Alex wanted to call Olivia immediately, but Coleman and Warren had arrived only minutes after the officers had awakened her, turning up at the same time as the detectives from the Sixth Precinct. Coleman sent them away, sent all of the police away, telling them that Ms. Cabot couldn't answer their questions without compromising a federal investigation.

While he was handling them, Warren spoke to Alex.

"You can't call her," she said. "It's not negotiable."

"Call whom?"

"Ms. Cabot, your opinion of federal agents precedes you, but you should know that I'm not an idiot. Do not call Detective Benson. We have to get a detail on you, immediately, and get you out of here. Don't drag her into this."

"What do you mean, get me _out of here_?"

Coleman rejoined them, clearly resuming his starring role as Good Cop. "Nothing permanent, Ms. Cabot. Just a few days, until the warrants are issued and the arrests are made."

"Where are you putting me?" she said. "I'm not going back into..."

"No," he said. "You're not. We just have to put you somewhere safe, where we can keep an eye on you."

"So, put a detail on me and I'll go to Olivia's."

"Not an option," Warren said. _Bad Cop, enter stage right_, Alex thought. _Christ, you two aren't even very good at this routine._

"Then what are my options?" she asked. "Can't you protect me at her place as well as anywhere else?"

"White Plains," Warren said. "FBI safe house there, completely secure."

"Are you kidding me?" Alex asked. "Don't you have a government rate at some hotel or something? I'm not going anywhere without her."

"We do, but we're not sure that makes the most sense in this situation," Coleman said. "We're not taking any chances, Ms. Cabot, and we'd advise you not to, either. This is a volatile situation, and it's better for all concerned if you're out of harm's way. We're only a few days from closing out this case, and then everything will be back to normal."

"But Olivia is a police officer, she knew I was alive when no one else did," Alex said. "Surely she can be notified, at least."

Warren jumped in again—the woman couldn't pass up a chance to be a bitch, it seemed—and slammed the door shut on that possibility. "There's more to consider here, Ms. Cabot. We are working with your office to arrest corrupt cops, and your girlfriend is a cop who is currently under investigation. It's all a little too close for comfort."

Alex was scared, and pissed, and—strangely emboldened by a double-dose of Xanax—she bit back at the woman. "I don't like what you're implying, Agent Warren."

Coleman stepped in to defuse the situation. "It's been a long night, everyone is tense. Let's just wrap this up and get out of here."

* * *

Alex gathered some clothes, and necessities. They were watching her, she couldn't call Liv if she tried. Honestly, she wasn't sure she _wanted _to make the call, and explain the mess she'd gotten into, but she felt very lonely in the middle of this without Olivia, and it was killing her. She was crying, furiously wiping away tears with her sleeve as she finished packing. The last things she put in her bag were the two silver frames: the pictures of her family, and of her and Olivia. She'd been taken away before with nothing, and she'd be damned if she'd go along with that again, no matter how _temporary_ the relocation was meant to be.

She was allowed a little time to go to the office and pick up her research, tidy up some loose ends. She'd convinced them her departure would arouse less suspicion if she went in, handed off some work, spun a story of a sick relative or something. She couldn't call Olivia from there, either—Warren was her detail until she left for White Plains. And Liv hadn't called her because she thought Alex would be in her usual bureau staff meeting. Every Monday, 8:00 on the dot, always at least two hours long, but not today. Alex knew, if she stalled long enough, Liv would call her, and maybe she could find some way to let her know what was going on. She started working on her statement, crafting it as carefully as any closing argument she'd ever given, but it wasn't necessary.

Olivia showed up in her office just after 10:30, as Alex was gathering files into her bag, and concern was waging a losing battle with fury. Alex could see it written on her face.

"Liv," she said.

"Don't you dare fucking ask what I'm doing here, Alex."

"I wasn't going to."

"Because you _know _why I'm here, don't you? You know that I heard through the grapevine this morning, from some fucktard Fin knows in the 1-8, that some uni he knows in the Sixth Precinct responded to a car arson at the home of an Executive Assistant District Attorney."

"Liv, I'm sorry, I was going to call you."

"Lines have been tied up, huh? What's it been, Alex, only about 7 or 8 hours since it happened? I'm sure it's been hard to find the time to let me know that someone tried to kill you."

"No-one tried to kill me, Olivia," she said quietly. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, you're absolutely right. Someone just wanted you to know that they _could _ kill you, that they _might _come back and do it later, if they feel like it. When the fuck were you going to tell me?"

"I didn't want to upset you. I was trying to think of what to say."

"The truth would have been sufficient, I'd think, and doesn't normally require a lot of rehearsal, Counselor."

Alex stood up and walked around the desk, stood near Olivia but didn't touch her, knowing the slightest contact would be her undoing. "Olivia, you don't understand."

"Then explain. Tell me what the hell case you're on that is worth going through this all over again."

"I can't."

"You what?"

"I want to explain, but I can't. Not yet. Give me a few days, I've got some things to take care of. Maybe Saturday, we can grab dinner, and I'll explain."

"Romantic. We can go somewhere, the three of us—me, you and your bodyguard—while you explain to me how someone wants you dead, but it's really no big deal. You know what? I think I'm done having this conversation with you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, you're going to tell me that you were never in any danger, when some lunatic was in your parking garage torching your car." And Alex realized that something was missing here.

Olivia hadn't mentioned the graffiti, which meant that she didn't know about it. It made sense—the Feds cleared NYPD from the scene as quickly as possible, and even a young patrol officer prone to gossiping wouldn't want to risk his career by crossing the Feds. And, while those three names painted on her wall were the most significant—and frightening—part of this to Alex, they'd have been a mystery to the cops. Even recalling it now, the blood-red paint, the careless scrawl—it brought a swell of fear and nausea over Alex that nearly buckled her knees. She couldn't go through this alone.

But when she was about to say _fuck it_, to break down and tell Olivia everything, she noticed Warren lurking outside her door, keeping tabs on this _volatile situation_. The opportunity was gone. She hadn't listened the last time someone tried to keep her safe, and now she was between the biggest rock and the hardest place she'd ever known. In order to do what she was told, to stay safe, to keep Olivia safe, she'd have to make Olivia leave here, and not look back. Despite a horrible sense of deja vu, she forged ahead, knowing she had no choice.

"If you gave a damn about me being in any danger, you'd have been there with me, Olivia."

Olivia's eyes darkened, and narrowed. "I told you, I needed time."

And Alex knew she had to deliver the fatal blow, but could still barely get the words out. "Well, at least I'm still here this morning, still alive, so I guess there's at least a little more time for you to come around." She was dying inside.

Olivia left Alex's office without another word, and went back to work, and counted the hours until she'd leave that miserable fucking desk, and drink until she couldn't even remember who Alex Cabot was anymore.

* * *

Before Alex would allow herself to be banished, she insisted on a quick stop in Queens.

"We can't do that," Warren said.

"You can, and you will," Alex said.

"Ms. Cabot, this investigation is too important. Lots of lives are at risk here, and you're not running this show."

"Look," she said. "I have some business I need to take care of. Establish a perimeter or take me off-grid or whatever the fuck it is you do, but make this happen. Or I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

By 9:00 that night, Alex had already achieved complete boredom in a cookie-cutter apartment outside White Plains. Calling it a _safe house _lent it an air of intrigue that it didn't deserve. Accompanied by two federal agents, she had been repeatedly assured that this was temporary, that the Feds were moving in on Grant and Harper within the next week, and as soon as they were behind bars she could go back home and do whatever she pleased. She wondered if it would be ridiculous to count the hours until she could go home to her life, or at least to whatever part of it she hadn't irrevocably fucked up.

* * *

At the same time, Olivia was several drinks into her _Alex Who? _campaign at a bar in the West Village. As she put her hand up to order another, she felt someone behind her, and heard a sweet voice in her ear.

"Fancy meeting you here, Officer."She turned around to find Julie, as cute as ever, wearing a smile that was probably the product of a few glasses of wine. Who cared? It was a smile, and Olivia sorely needed one about now. "This seat taken?"

"It is now," Olivia responded with a smile of her own, and pulled the stool out for Julie.

They talked for a long while, catching up on work and friends. Olivia omitted the details of her current drama on the job, thought wryly to herself that if she'd had a desk job when they were dating, they might have moved in together, might still _be _together. Sober, she'd have known that was a load of shit—she and Alex belonged together, and there was no room for anyone else in that equation—but the alcohol was conspiring with a powerful speedball of anger and hurt to let her believe whatever lies she felt like telling herself tonight.

About 10:30, Julie started making noises about heading home, early day tomorrow, and so on. Olivia looked around for a familiar face or two, but didn't see anyone she knew.

"You're here alone?"

"No, I was here with some friends, just grabbing a drink after work."

"Where are they?" Olivia asked.

"They left. We were heading out when I saw you. I'd come up here to settle my tab, and when I spotted you I told them to go ahead."

"So, you're here alone now." Olivia gave her a sideways glance, tried to look seductive and devil-may-care, even though she felt drunk and desperate.

"I am here now," Julie smirked, and turned toward Olivia, leaning into her and whispering, "Whether or not I'm alone is up to you, hot stuff.."

Olivia kissed her. She didn't know what she was thinking, or even _if _she was thinking. The kiss quickly grew heated, and Olivia's voice was rough and ready in Julie's ear. "I'm paying this bill and we're getting the hell out of here."

"Done. I already paid it," Julie said, and ran her hand through Olivia's hair, grabbing a handful and pulling the detective back in for another long kiss.

"Thought I was a sure thing, huh?"

"Not _sure _sure," she said, between kisses. "But pretty sure. Besides, I figured the least I could do was pay for your drinks, either way."

"We've established the least you could do then," Olivia said. "What's the _most _you can do?"

Julie's voice was low, and though there were people all around, no-one but Liv heard her. "The _most _ I can do is take you home and fuck you until the sun comes up."


	32. Chapter 32

**-32-**

They left the bar, got into Julie's car and were briefly delayed by more kissing. Julie drove, not nearly as drunk as Olivia, that much was obvious.

When they got back to Julie's place, the doctor was on her again as soon as the front door was closed, kissing and groping and whispering a steady stream of come-ons in her ear. Olivia was an eager participant, but after a few minutes, as Julie slipped her fingers under Olivia's shirt, played across her stomach, Olivia was starting to feel sick.

"Are you okay?" Julie asked, still kissing her neck, biting an earlobe here, a shoulder there.

"I just need a minute," Olivia said, and excused herself. She went into the bathroom, sure she was going to throw up. Was she coming down with something? It wasn't a hangover yet, she knew, though it almost certainly would be one in the morning. Satisfied that the wave of nausea had passed, she looked in the mirror. And in that instant she hated herself.

"What the hell are you doing, Benson?"

Julie heard her, must have come down the hall to check on her—she had been in here a few minutes. "You okay in there, hot stuff?"

Olivia opened the door, and as soon as Julie saw her face she knew something was up.

"No, I'm not okay," she said. "I'm sorry, Julie, I have to go. I can't do this."

"Bathroom not clean enough for you?" Julie quipped, keeping a smile on her face but knowing this was over before it had begun.

"I'm making a huge mistake," she said. "I shouldn't have involved you in it. I have to go." She started toward the door.

"I'll drive you home," Julie offered.

"No, I can't impose on you. I'm..." She was at a loss, needed to apologize, to Julie, to Alex, to everyone. Needed, more than anything, to get out of here before she did any more damage, to anyone. "I'll get a cab. I'm sorry, Julie, I really am."

* * *

She let herself out without waiting for a reply. On the street, she started walking. It wasn't yet midnight, she should go to Alex's. Julie's apartment was on Pinehurst, a little side street, and there were no restaurants or hotels nearby with cabstands, and no dispatcher would send a hack out to get her at this hour, on this side street. She couldn't very well prove she was NYPD over the phone.

She called Fin.

"Tutuola."

"Fin," she said.

"Liv, what's going on? You okay?"

"I'm sorry to wake you," she said.

"Aw, hell, I'm not sleeping. Knicks are playing on the west coast tonight, game's still on. Whatcha need?"

"I need a ride, but I hate to drag you out this late."

"No worries, I'm already out, watching the game at a bar with my boys. Where ya at, baby?"

She gave him the address, the nearest cross street. "Whattya doin' all the way up there?" he asked.

"Long story," she said.

"Well, good thing we'll have enough time on the way back for you to tell me the whole thing."

* * *

He was there 20 minutes later, picked her up and headed back toward Olivia's place.

"You look like hell, Benson, so I'll spare you the lecture about standing around waiting on a ride like that."

"Thanks," she said.

"What about the other lectures?"

"What do you mean?"

"The lectures about getting drunk and doing shit you're gonna regret, not taking care of your business at home, those lectures. Am I sparing you those, too?"

"Yeah, you are."

He drove for a few more minutes before he'd had enough. "Tell me."

She did. She told him the whole story, was just drunk enough still that she didn't gloss over the parts that showed her in a negative light. Which was most of the story, come to think of it.

When they were nearing her place, he pulled over. "What are you doing?"

"Cabot's address," he said. "That's where you need to be." She gave it to him, and he drove here there. The doorman informed her that Alex wasn't home, wasn't expected home. Even that little bit was more than he should have said, really, but he recognized her, could tell she was worried about the attorney who lived in 5E.

They walked back outside, and stood on the sidewalk. "Guess I'll head home. I can walk from here, Fin. Thanks, really."

"Bullshit. Call her."

"What? It's late."

"Cut the crap, Liv, and call her. You ain't goin' home until you try her, and you sure as hell ain't walking."

Olivia dialed, twice, but it went straight to voicemail both times. Fin took her to her place, made her blink the lights to let him know she was in safe and sound. She cried herself to sleep.


	33. Chapter 33

**-33-**

In White Plains the next morning, Alex noticed the missed calls, but wouldn't call Olivia, knew the detective would either want to see her, which wasn't an option, or scream at her, which she couldn't handle right now. She'd been informed by Coleman at 7 am that Saturday would be the day; they had the evidence they needed to move in and arrest Grant, Harper and several accomplices. Their intel said Grant would be flying in from China on Friday night, so they wanted to wait until he was back on American soil, rather than trust the Chinese government to cooperate in any way. Simultaneously, the NYPD would be arresting several patrol officers in the 8th Precinct for a variety of other crimes that fell short of the standard for federal prosecution.

The Feds knew that someone in Grant's camp knew something—the havoc wreaked at Alex's place made that much obvious—but they were gambling that they didn't know how close the case was. While they waited for the warrants and planned the operation, they'd keep their undercover in place. There was no evidence he'd been compromised. But as soon as the last detail fell into place, they'd move in to arrest them, before anything else could go wrong. The US Attorney assigned to the case felt sure they had enough to get a conviction; whatever else they got between the warrant applications and the arrests would be gravy.

* * *

While Alex was out of the office for the week, attending to her supposedly ill relative, the DA was being kept out of the office on the pretext of some business in Washington. He, too, was under the protection of a federal detail for the rest of the week, but there were no threats made against him, so his precautions were less elaborate than Alex's own.

"Better safe than sorry," Warren had said to her during a check-in on Wednesday.

"No shit. You're preaching to the choir," she replied, and the stoic FDA agent cracked a smile for the first time since Alex had met her.

It had killed her to ignore Olivia's calls, but after a full day or so, she didn't even have to think about that. Olivia stopped calling. That gave Alex even more time to fret and flounder. She was going stir-crazy in this apartment, and it wouldn't stop snowing, and if she didn't see Olivia soon, she thought she might lose her mind.

* * *

Olivia woke on Tuesday morning with a horrible hangover, and found to her horror that she remembered everything that had happened the night before: the bar, Julie, calling Fin, going to Alex's. She wasn't given the mercy of one single missing detail.

Olivia called Cragen, took a personal day. There was no way in hell she could function, deal with people, pretend her whole world wasn't shattering around her. She tried Alex's cell, but straight to voicemail again. She tried a few more times before lunch, same result. She called Ellen, but was simply told that Alex was out of the office.

She stayed in the house, not sure if she was sleeping between crying jags, or crying between sleeping jags. Finally, about 2:00, she threw on some running clothes and decided to try to get in a few miles before the early darkness of winter set in. The cold air felt good on her skin. She'd only gone a few blocks when someone stepped in front of her.

"Detective Benson."

It was a woman she didn't recognize. She stopped, a good 15 feet from her. She reached for her gun, realized she didn't have it. Damn desk duty.

"What do you want?" Olivia demanded. "How do you know me?" She had a bad feeling.

The woman looked around, made sure no-one was paying attention to them, and showed her a badge. Just a brief glimpse, but she _did_ look like he was on the job. That was what had seemed familiar.

"Someone you know sent me here, wanted me to tell you something," she said.

"Where is she?" Olivia asked.

"She's _safe_," the woman replied, with a strange emphasis on the word. "But she's not in Branford."

"If that's supposed to be some password to reassure me, it's not going to work," Olivia said. "Anyone could find that out. How do I know you're legit?"

She looked at her, then looked into the middle-distance, behind her. Olivia turned, and saw another agent, a man, 20 yards away, wearing running clothes like his partner, and stretching against a lightpost. The man nodded, just a brief movement. Olivia looked back to the woman in front of her.

"She asked me to tell you she's still all in," the agent said. Olivia felt tears in her eyes, instantly, the warm, salty drops growing cold by the time they slid down her cheeks just a second after they were created.

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine," the woman reassured her. "Pissed off, but fine."

"Well, now I definitely know you're legit," she said. The woman chuckled, started to move away. Olivia held up a hand to stop her. "There is one other thing..."

"What is it?"

"How long?"

"Not long, Detective. A few days." The woman walked past Olivia to join her partner, and they jogged off down the street.

She cut her run short and went home. Now that she knew Alex was okay, she had a lot to think about.

* * *

Olivia worked the rest of the week, strategized a bit with Kate on Saturday afternoon. The hearing was scheduled for the following Wednesday, and Kate was feeling good about it. She had gotten some interesting information on Patel, and found that Tucker's file wasn't exactly spotless, either. "Still working on some details, Olivia, but believe me when I say this one will be worth the price of admission. I'd tell you to sell tickets if you could, but I suppose that would bring up a whole other range of issues."

"Probably," Olivia said. "Kate, I can't thank you enough. Whatever happens Wednesday, you've gone above and beyond for me, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it."

"I've got my own motives," Kate said. "Alex is my best friend, and I'd do anything for her. I want her to be happy, Olivia, and you make her happy. Frankly, I think you're a hell of a pair. One of you can't say _want _and the other one can't say _need, _but you're good for her. And I know you're a good person, and a damn good cop. I knew the minute she told me about this that it was all bullshit, and there's nothing I hate more than bullshit. Now, go home and enjoy your evening. I'll call you again on Monday to touch base."


	34. Chapter 34

**-34-**

Olivia went home, but didn't stay there long. She needed to talk through some things with the only person who would understand. She had been waiting on the stoop for close to an hour in the dark evening when the minivan pulled up. Elliot and Kathy got out, helped Eli out of the back, and walked across the grass. Eli ran to her, yelling across the lawn, "Auntie Liv!" She opened her arms to him, hugged him tight, realizing how fast time had flown. He was a baby, really, the last time she'd seen him. He was a boy now, five years old, and he looked very much like Dickie had at this age.

She was shocked that he'd remembered her, and thought that there might have been a bit of prompting on Kathy's part , in the car, when she'd seen Liv waiting there. She'd take it, though. Kathy approached, a couple of grocery bags hanging from one hand, and said, "Hi, Olivia. Stay for dinner?"

"No, but thanks, Kath," she said. "Mind if I talk to Elliot for a few?"

"Of course not. Take your time," Kathy said. She grabbed the hood on Eli's jacket. "Inside, mister."

"Mom, I want to..."

"Yeah, yeah," she said. With five kids, Kathy was a master at deflecting requests before they were even made. She walked up the steps, stopped beside Liv on the top step and reached down to put her hand on the detective's shoulder. "We've missed you, Liv."

Olivia reached up and squezed her hand, for just a second. "Thanks."

* * *

Now that they were alone, Elliot finally spoke. "You okay?"

"Honestly?" Olivia asked. "No."

"Wanna walk?"

"I'd rather sit here, if you don't mind," she said. "You've solved a few of my problems on this stoop. I'm hoping you can work your magic again."

She scooted over a bit to make room, and he sat down next to her. It was quiet for a moment as she tried to decide where to begin.

"This stoop is cold," Elliot announced.

"Tell me about it," she cracked. "You're sitting on a trench coat for, what, 30 seconds? I've been here for an hour. My ass is freezing off. How long does Mass take these days, anyway?"

He laughed, and things seemed pretty normal for two people who'd spent 12 years as extensions of one another, and now hadn't spoken in over a year. Sensing Olivia's reticence, knowing why she was here, Elliot broke the ice. "Wondered when you'd turn up."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your partner was here a few days ago," he said.

Her confusion was evident on her face when she said, "Amaro was here?"

"No, Liv. Alex. Alex was here," he explained. "Alex is your partner."

* * *

She was shocked that Alex had contacted Elliot, come over here. And maybe annoyed, too. Elliot was hers, not Alex's. "What did she want?"

"You."

"What?"

"She wants you," he said. "And you want her. Too bad you guys didn't pick the same day to come over."

"I wish it were that simple, El."

"She told me what was going on. Tell me your story."

She did. She told him what had happened, all of it, and though she didn't have the heart—or the stomach—to repeat all of what they'd said to one another right before Christmas, she told him that she didn't know if they could ever get past it.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Hard to say," she admitted.

"I think you need to figure that out," he told her. "You're afraid, and you can't function right when you're scared. Never could."

"I could have lost my job, El. Still could, I suppose."

"That worse than losing Alex?"

She thought, hard, about how to answer that. Because, on the one hand, there was clearly no contest. And yet, the fear of losing her badge had already driven her to make mistakes with Alex, to hurt her, and she supposed maybe actions did speak louder than words.

"You don't understand, Elliot. When you left SVU, you didn't _need _us. You have your family, and a life outside. Even if it is in Queens." She smiled at him, and he laughed. He was quiet for a minute before answering her.

"You guys were my family, too. You were like a sister to me, Liv, and you know that. It was a tough decision, and what made it hard was you guys. The job was wearing on me, and I just didn't feel like one more freakin' psych eval was going to do any good."

"You'd have been cleared," she said.

"Maybe. Probably," he allowed. "And that scared me, too. I was so full of rage, and the thought that they'd let me back on the streets—that I'd actually _go_ if they let me—was scaring the shit out of me. But in the end, the investigation and the order to see the shrink aren't what made my decision."

"What was?"

"I knew the shooting was justified, knew everything in my jacket was kosher, but I'd brought so much scrutiny to the unit," he said. "It would've been unbearable for all of you if I'd stayed."

"It was pretty unbearable, the way you left," she said.

"I'd let you down, and I knew that. I couldn't face you," he told her. "You deserved better, and I'm sorry."

They were both quiet for a moment, until Olivia broke the silence.

"I think about getting out, too. You seem like you're at peace, Elliot. I wonder what that would be like."

"Rage was never your problem," he reminded her. "Your problem is you empathize so much with the victims, there's nothing left for you."

"Or for Alex," she filled in. He let that go, not ready to go there yet, to tell her to learn from his own mistakes.

"It's got its problems, being off the job," he said. "But it does have its good side, too. You'll have to leave it all sometime, unless you're like Briscoe, just move over to the DA's investigative squad and work your last case up until the week you die."

"You know, there are days I think that might be okay," she said. He could hear pain in her voice, and it killed him. "I'd have nothing, nowhere to go. The thought of that happening when I'm 65 is bad enough, but it could happen this week, at my hearing, and I can't even imagine it." She paused a moment, and when she spoke, her voice broke just a tiny bit, so slightly that he was one of only two people on earth who'd have heard it. "If she's willing to take away everything, El, how can she say she loves me?"

* * *

He knew it was time, to give her the hard truth and make her see what was obvious to him.

"Liv, there was only one perfect person, and look what they did to him," he said. She gave him a cockeyed look, but didn't laugh. "I'm just saying, she's a human being, flawed and messy and broken just like the rest of us. She's wearing some serious scars, and she earned every one of them. Look, you never abandoned me, even when I made decisions that could've cost you your job. Hell, could have cost you your _life._ She wants justice, and she hates to back down. Not a bad set of flaws to have, and not that much different from someone else I could name."

"Then why am I so hard on her? Why do I expect so much?"

"Because you're that hard on yourself, Olivia. And because, 99% of the time, she delivers. And because love makes no damn sense, and you know it." She didn't know how to respond to that. He decided to try one more thing that might get through to her.

"I love you," he said. "You're a sister to me, a best friend, and you literally saved my life on more occasions than I care to name. I treated you like shit, and I know it. But here we are, like nothing happened. Tell me, Liv, did you forgive me?"

"Yeah. It took a while, but I did."

"Even though I didn't have the guts, or the sense, to ask for it?"

"Yes," she repeated.

"Why?"

"Because, on some level, I understood that you did what you had to do. Because I had to, or I'd destroy myself by hanging onto that," she answered. "And because you'd do the same for me."

"Don't you think you owe Alex at least that much, then? You've been in love—or whatever you are, or aren't—for 12 years, almost as long as I've known you. That doesn't come around every day."

"I just don't know..." She started, trailed off. Didn't even _know _what she didn't know.

"You do know," he told her, and put his hand on her own, held it. "You're damn good at your job, but does that keep you warm at night? There is more to be had in life if you're willing to demand it. You can _find _some other job, but Cabot _gets _ you, she understands you like probably no-one else in the world. Promise me you'll think about what you're doing."

"I will," she told him. They sat together, staring silently at the road for a good while, before she spoke again. "Elliot, I didn't think you'd be okay with..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said. "I surprise myself every day."

"By the way, wanna be a character witness at my hearing?"

They both laughed. "Well, as much as I want you to be happy, badge or no badge, I _don't _want to be the reason it happens. Now get off my stoop and figure this out. This was a freebie, but if either one of you shows up here again without beer and wings, I'm going to start charging you my normal hourly rate for couples therapy."


	35. Chapter 35

**-35-**

The arrest had gone down, as planned, on Saturday evening, and both Jeffrey Grant and Tim Harper were taken into federal custody, along with several accomplices, mostly from outside the precinct. But the NYPD and City Hall could count on a massive black eye from this, without a doubt. Along with the federal prosecution looming for the lieutenant of a precinct and the son of the mayor, more than a dozen officers had been arrested for a hodgepodge of lesser crimes that Alex and her staff would be expected to prosecute over the upcoming months.

Fin had called Olivia at home on Saturday night to tell her to turn on NY1—they were giving live coverage of a joint press conference between the feds and the DA's office to discuss the previous evening's arrests in conjunction with corruption in the NYPD's 8th Precinct. It was painfully clear to Olivia what Alex had been working on, and how dangerous it was, and why she'd been wherever she'd been. Olivia's heart ached to see her on the screen. She looked thin, too thin—she never remembered to eat when she was upset, and Olivia hadn't been there to remind her.

This was a major coup for the DA, and for his Major Case EADA. It vindicated Alex, and everything she'd said on CNN. And it could have gone badly for Colin Samuels, but since the mayor was being hit by fallout from his son's arrest, Samuels got to play the hero instead. History is written by the victors, after all, and this would set the DA up quite nicely, thank you, for whatever the next election might bring.

* * *

About 11:30, there was a knock on Olivia's door, and she opened it to find Alex standing in the hall, holding an overnight bag, and looking exhausted. She smiled at the attorney, a grin that went from ear to ear—she could feel it, but couldn't stop herself if she tried.

"Lose your key?" she joked.

Alex didn't laugh, though; looked, in fact, like she might start crying and never stop.

"Oh, honey," Olivia said, taking her bag and pulling her in the door by the hand. She dropped the bag on the floor and hugged Alex, held her with no intention of letting go. After a while there, just stroking Alex's back and inhaling the wonderful scent of her, Olivia stepped back and looked at her, holding one hand and pushing her blond hair back from her face. "I saw you on TV. That suit again." She shook her head and let out a low whistle.

Alex laughed, joy mixed in with fatigue that Olivia could hear in her voice. "I look like an unmade bed," she said.

"I love an unmade bed, as long as you're in it." Olivia took her hand, leading her through the living room and down the hall.

"Where are we going?"

"To _my _unmade bed," Olivia said. "To sleep, together."

"But I..."

"Alex, ssshhh," Olivia said. "Tomorrow. Whatever it is, tomorrow is soon enough." They undressed, and Olivia warmed up the cold sheets while Alex brushed her teeth, got her glass of water. She slid into the bed, and Olivia reached out to pull her over, wrapping her own body around Alex's, her left hand draped over Alex's waist. Olivia was bone-tired, so weary that her brain could barely even let her believe that Alex was here, and okay, and still her Alex.

She had nearly drifted off when she heard Alex's voice, thick with encroaching sleep. "Can I spend the night?"

"You can spend every night," Olivia said.

* * *

On Sunday, they slept late, and ignored their phones, and didn't leave the apartment. Alex checked in with the DA a couple of times, and called her aunt and uncle to reassure them that she was okay, and that the worst was over.

When Alex had woken up at 10, Olivia had made them some breakfast, brought it to bed on a tray. She fed Alex some fruit, and they ate oatmeal and some yogurt. Olivia was pleased to see that Alex looked rested, was getting her appetite back. But she still looked troubled, and Olivia knew they'd need to get some things out on the table before either of them could really be at ease. She moved the breakfast tray to the floor beside the bed, and sat facing Alex.

"Alex, I'm so sorry."

"For what, baby?" Alex held both of her hands, looking at their entwined fingers. "You were trying to protect me. I see that now. And you were right."

"You know, I don't really care anymore if I'm right. That won't really be any consolation if I don't have you," Olivia said. "When I heard what had happened, your car, I just..."

"I know, Liv. I couldn't tell you," she said. "But you still don't know everything about it, I'm afraid." Alex told her about the graffiti outside the apartment, and even safe in Olivia's bed with all of the bad guys in jail, and everything right with the world, it was still painfully obvious how afraid she'd been. Hearing it now, Olivia felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

"Sweetheart," she said. "I'm so sorry. Do they know who it was?"

"They think so," Alex answered. "One of the underlings, sent to scare me off. It was all related to the CNN thing—they apparently had no idea the Feds were onto them. But I guess the Mercedes was sacrificed for a greater cause, because something about the arson led them to two civilian accomplices they hadn't known existed."

"How did they know about witness protection, the aliases?" Olivia was trying to rein in her own fear and anxiety—she knew it was over, and everything was okay, but knowing now that someone had stood outside Alex's apartment while she slept...it sent a chill down her spine.

"They're not sure yet. But I want to know. The Feds will try to get it out of the guy they hired to do the job."

"I should have been there, with you, that night."

"Olivia, you can't do that to yourself. We had no idea that would happen. And if we were asleep, it would have happened anyway."

Olivia looked at her, knew she was right, but it didn't make her feel any less guilty for punishing Alex when she should have been protecting her.

"Alex, are you sure you still want this? I mean, I know you sent a federal agent to tell me that you're _all in_ and everything..." Olivia joked, afraid of hearing the answer now that she'd asked the question. "But I'd understand if you needed some time to..."

"I don't need time, Olivia. I told you I'd be waiting, whenever you were ready, and I meant it. But I have to know: are _you_ all in? I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. But if we are going to make this work, you have to forgive me," she said. "Completely."

Olivia didn't hesitate, having had more than enough time already to consider the question, and the answer. "I am," she said. "I do forgive you, completely. While you were gone, Alex, I really thought about my reactions to what happened, and I realized that the reason the job is all I had is because it's all I've _let_ myself have. But you are more important to me than this job."

"Are you sure, Liv? I'm not asking you to give up your work. You love it, and you're good at it, and I'm proud of you."

"I know that. And I think that's what made me realize that I don't need it. I mean, I hope I'm cleared at this hearing—I love what I do, and I want to keep doing it. But whatever happens, I'll be fine. I love you more than any damn job, and I'll spend every day proving that to you, if you'll let me."

"Oh, I'll let you, alright," Alex said, and she was on Olivia in a second, pulling off her robe and drawing her close until there was no space or light or air between their bodies—no room for even a whisper. They were in bed all afternoon, talking, making love, and feeling like they'd gotten a third or fourth chance at something they couldn't live without. The new week would bring work, and Olivia's hearing, but for the rest of that Sunday, the world outside their windows might well have been an illusion for all they cared.


	36. Chapter 36

**-36-**

The Mayor resigned on Monday morning, saying that he believed in his son's innocence and would support him in any way possible, but that he couldn't possibly give the job his full attention during such a difficult time for his family. There was the expected _mea culpa _press conference in front of City Hall, and he was blinking back tears that played well for the cameras. Alex suspected they were caused more by the cold air rather than by any real shame or sadness.

* * *

Alex went to the DA's office on Mondayat lunchtime, prepared to resign. He wasn't having it.

"Stick it out, Cabot," he said. "You're a damn good prosecutor, and with all that's happened lately, my chair might be open sooner rather than later."

"I'm not sure I want your chair, Colin. I've had my life threatened one too many times for this job," she said.

"You have had it rougher than most," he said. "And I owe you an apology. You told me there was something else going on in that precinct, and I ignored you."

"You couldn't have known it would end up like this," she said. Though she was gratified by the apology, she didn't see this coming herself.

"True, but I could've trusted you to do the job I hired you for, and given you the resources you needed to find out what was going on over there. I was too trusting of IAB, figured if it was anything serious, they'd have found it."

"My years in SVU disabused me of that notion," she said.

"Benson okay?"

"I don't know, to be honest," she said. "It's been a difficult time for us. I need to step back and re-evaluate. A lot of things, actually."

"Well, I'm not accepting your resignation," he said. "Especially not now. You've had a hard time, and you're in a bad spot to be making any important decisions. Would you agree?"

"Maybe," she allowed. "But..."

"But, nothing," he said. "You're taking this week off, get things back in order, buy a new Mercedes. When you come back—not _if_, Alex, _when—_we'll discuss your future. If not Major Case, then what? You want to go back to SVU? I can move Cutter to Major."

"Definitely not SVU," she laughed. "That would take something that's already complicated and make it damn near impossible."

"True," he laughed with her. "Okay, then, human trafficking? I know that's a particular interest of yours."

Alex saw an opening, and took it. "Actually, Colin, Atlanta/Fulton County has a bureau that only prosecutes crimes against women. And they're not the only ones, but they're the biggest one, and they're beating us to the punch. We need to be in the forefront of these issues."

He thought for a long moment. "I'm not saying _no_. Let's talk about it next week when you come back. We'll discuss the broad outlines of what something like that might look like here, and if it sounds like it's worth considering, I'll let you submit a formal proposal, give you an assistant to flesh out the details."

"Oh, I have an assistant," Alex said. "You're not getting Ellen away from me."

"I hear she's in demand, Cabot, you'd better watch out," he joked. "Cutter would poach her in a second."

She stood up to leave, and he walked around the desk to escort her out of the office.

"I"m serious about the week, Alex. Take it. I don't want to see your face in here until next Monday," he said. "And thank you, Cabot." She turned to him, and he offered his hand. She shook it.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "Now get out of here."

* * *

On Wednesday morning, Olivia attended her hearing at One Police Plaza. It was fairly informal, or at least, nothing really like testifying in court. Cragen attended as well, with Fin and Munch. Alex chose to cool her heels in the Major Case squadroom, with Eames keeping her company while the events unfolded two floors below in a conference room.

The hearing lasted nearly two hours, and Kate had been right to be confident: IAB had next to nothing to go on, and couldn't produce their complainant, since the allegations were made anonymously. The case against Olivia consisted primarily of old allegations that had already been examined at various times over the years, and found to be groundless. They were dressed up in fancy new clothes, to be sure, and made to seem new, and sordid, and seamy—but it was no better than putting lipstick on a pig.

Kate really put on a show when it was her turn to question the department's witnesses, but called only one of her own: Ed Tucker. She then systematically tore him apart. She had a raft of statistics to back up the pattern she presented: Tucker spent an inordinate amount of his time monitoring, harassing and interrogating the detectives of the 16th Precinct. Thought they made up far less than 1% of the entire NYPD detective squad, Cragen's squad endured nearly 11% of Tucker's formal investigations.

The attorney had somehow retrieved internal memos, and had sworn affidavits from other IAB officers who indicated that Tucker had repeatedly expressed animosity toward the SVU squad. He had, in fact, applied to join the squad on several occasions that predated Cragen, and had been turned down after psych evals indicated some instability. He had, it seemed, conspired with a police academy classmate in the records department to expunge _that_ information from his record. Had it been known, he surely wouldn't have been allowed anywhere near the 1-6.

The hearing wasn't about Tucker's own vendetta, so the presiding commissioner could only dismiss the charges against Olivia, but couldn't take any action against the IAB lieutenant. Olivia was thrilled, accepting hugs and congratulations from the Captain, Fin and Munch. Olivia had already arranged to take the rest of the week off—assuming she'd either need a break, and time to gather herself before resuming her regular duties, or she'd be looking for a new career. She was pleased it wasn't the latter, and as the three men left, she told them she'd see them on Monday.

"Seven o'clock, Benson," Fin called out. "None of this namby-pamby, desk-duty eight o'clock bullshit. Ya feelin' me?"

"I don't take orders from you," she laughed.

"Then take 'em from me," Cragen said. "If it's a minute past 7:30, there damn well better be donuts," he told her as they left the room.

When she turned back to Kate, there were tears in her eyes. "I can't really express what this means to me, Kate," she said.

"Good, because I don't much go for that touchy-feely crap," Kate told her. "But I know someone who does, and if you don't go upstairs and find her soon, she's going to be out of her mind wondering what the hell happened."

* * *

Olivia went upstairs to get Alex, greeting a few people she knew on the way up to Major Case. When she walked in, she found Alex sitting with Goren and Eames. They looked to be working, which would be just like Alex when she'd been ordered to take a week of vacation. Eames caught her eye first, and when Alex noticed, she looked up to see Liv in the doorway of the squadroom. She said her goodbyes to her two detectives and walked over to join her in the hallway.

"Well?"

Olivia just smiled. "Everything's just fine."

Alex hugged her. "Oh, baby, I'm so glad. Everything?"

"Everything," she nodded. "Kate eviscerated Tucker's case, and then Tucker himself. He'll be lucky if he still has a badge tomorrow."

"Who watches the watchers?" Alex asked rhetorically. "Oh, how I wish I'd been there."

"Don't worry, sweetie, if he goes down for this, I'm sure he'll hold you personally responsible despite your conspicuous absence today. Now, let me take you to lunch?"

"Absolutely," Alex said, and took Olivia's hand as they got into the elevator. "Where will it be?"

"I know a place, up near New Haven," Olivia said. "Great deck, view of the cove, boat rides in the summer, and the room feels just like home."

Alex smiled. "It does, doesn't it?"


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading, and for your kind reviews and messages. I've really enjoyed hearing from you and I hope you enjoyed the story!  
**

**-37-**

They packed, and drove up to Branford. Olivia had arranged the visit already with Jean, who was thrilled to have them—_both _of them—back under her roof.

Thursday and Friday were quiet days—Bill had some classes, Jean a few things to do. On Friday morning, Kate called with news that Dev Patel had been arrested for filing a false report. Tucker had come under fire from IAB's Investigative Review Unit, and to save his pension he agreed to resign, and gave up Patel as his so-called informant.

The statement had never been anonymous; the Mayor had put Patel directly in touch with Tucker, avoiding several layers of checks and balances to go straight to Olivia, and thus drop the payback right on Alex's doorstep. Turns out, Patel had arranged the arson-and-intimidation blitz at Alex's, using the mayor's money. When he was arrested for his role, he made a deal to save himself some jail time by providing information that led straight to the mayor's arrest.

"Patel felt you weren't sufficiently scared, apparently." Olivia had relayed all the details Kate had given her, plus a few she'd gleaned from a call to the 1-6. Scandal like that was juicy gossip, and cops _love _gossip. "He wanted to do something to intimidate you. The mayor was the one who had the connections to get the info about your time in WitSec. He fronted the money, and Patel hired someone to do the job."

"So it had nothing to do with the investigation into Grant and Harper?"

"Not really, at least, not for Patel," Olivia said. "The mayor, on the other hand, thought it would kill two birds with one stone. Patel just wanted you out of the DA's office. The mayor wanted you out of the way, scared witless and in hiding."

"So the son of a bitch knew what his son was up to?" Alex asked.

"Doesn't surprise me," Liv said.

"No, I guess not," Alex agreed. "But this was quite a web they wove, wasn't it?"

"Probably didn't expect to catch themselves," Olivia said. "And then to have the foresight to involve my favorite IAB tormentor...what will I ever do without Tucker looking over my shoulder?" Olivia asked.

"Somehow, I think you'll manage," Alex laughed. "We'll have to let Elliot know when we get home. This definitely calls for drinks."

* * *

Even with the excitement of that news, there was still plenty of time to relax, and they talked through whatever was left from the nightmare they'd just come through. Liv told Alex about her disastrous trip to the bar the night after the car arson—and the near-miss with Julie—and Alex took it in her stride.

"I hadn't left you with any impression that things were going to work out, Liv," she said. "And I know you were angry. It killed me to tell you those things, but I didn't feel like I had much choice."

"I'm still not proud of it, Alex, and I wanted to be honest with you."

"Just kissing, right?"

"Yeah," Olivia confirmed.

"And then you almost threw up?"

"Yeah," Olivia said again, laughing this time.

"Well, that's not horrible," Alex said. "But if it ever happens again, you will be so sorry you'll be apologizing in languages you've never even heard of."

"Not just in French?" Olivia joked.

Alex leaned over and whispered something in her ear, then sat back on her knees on the couch, waiting.

"Okay, I give," Olivia said. "What did you just say?"

"I said, we have the house to ourselves, and French isn't for apologizing."

* * *

Friday night, they all had dinner at home, and no-one was quite ready for dessert. Jean made coffee, and Alex turned to Olivia. "Think I'll take my coffee outside for a bit, babe. Want to join me? It's a full moon, and a million stars."

"Sure," Olivia said.

Bill said, "You know what, that's not a bad..." One look from Jean, and he stopped cold. "Nah, maybe not."

Alex and Liv put on their jackets and went outside, smelling the sea in the cold air. Alex walked to the edge of the deck, put her mug on the railing and leaned on the railing, looking above her at the cloudless sky.

They pointed out constellations, marveling at how many stars they could see.

"I always forget, when I'm in the city, what it's like up here," Alex said.

"I know, it's a special place," Olivia agreed. "I know why you love it here."

"Do you?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, I do. It feels like home now."

"Good," Alex said, and turned to her. "It is home for you." She kissed Olivia, just the slightest touch of cold lips, before she lifted her eyes back to the sky.

* * *

"Alex, would you like to live with me?" Olivia asked.

Alex was completely surprised, not sure if this was a serious question, not wanting to assume it was, if it wasn't. "Well, my apartment is bigger, Liv."

"I thought it might be rude to invite myself over _forever_," Olivia joked. "I know how you appreciate manners. But whichever, I think it might make more sense to be living together."

"Make more sense?" Alex asked, still not trusting herself to look at Olivia. "You mean to cut down on expenses?" she laughed. Then she sensed that Olivia wasn't beside her anymore. And when she turned around, she found the detective down on one knee. Alex was so shocked, and overwhelmed, that she didn't even notice her aunt and uncle watching through the kitchen window.

"No, it's not expenses I'm worried about," Olivia said.

"Liv..."

"Hush, Alex, or I won't get through this," she whispered. She reached in her own pocket, pulling out a black velvet box.

Alex wasn't sure _she'd _get through it; she was blinking back tears already. Olivia opened the box, pulled out a beautiful Ascher-cut diamond ring. It sparkled in the moonlight as Olivia let the box fall to the wooden decking beside her knee. She held Alex's left hand with her own, and looked up into Alex's face. It calmed her immediately, and the butterflies stopped. She found her voice again.

"Sweetie, I love you," she said. "I've loved you since the moment I met you, I think, and I know that I'll love you until the moment I leave this earth. Everything we've been through was either going to tear us apart, or bind us together. And here we are."

Alex was crying now, tears flowing freely down her cheeks, making her blue eyes sparkle. Liv was fighting her own tears, needing to finish this. Who in hell knew this would be so hard?

Knowing she had a lifetime to say whatever she wanted to say, but only a few seconds to seal this deal before she had a complete breakdown, she jumped with both feet.

"Will you marry me, Alex?" Alex just nodded at first, and Olivia slid the ring onto her finger, and kissed her hand. Alex moved her hand, now sparkling like her eyes, and brushed her thumb across Olivia's lips, and ran her fingers lightly through Olivia's hair.

"Yes," Alex said. "And yes and yes and yes."

Olivia stood up and kissed her, a sweet, gentle kiss that made Alex feel like she was floating. They stood there for a moment, whispering and laughing and crying, when Olivia said, "I think we'd better get inside. It's cold, and your aunt and uncle will kill me if I keep you out here too long."

"I can't wait to tell them," Alex said. She looked at the ring on her finger. "Liv, it's beautiful, just like you."

* * *

They walked in to the sound of clapping and the pop of a champagne cork. Alex just looked at Olivia. "They knew?"

Olivia shrugged before they were both enveloped in hugs.

"Of course we knew, Ace," Uncle Bill told her. "She had us come down Tuesday for lunch."

"Sneaky, Benson," Alex laughed. "Thought you were having a last-minute strategy session with Kate."

"It was a _good _lie," Olivia argued.

"Some of those _situational ethics_ you love," Bill teased.

"How very old-fashioned of you, Olivia," Alex smiled. "Did you ask for my hand?"

"Heavens, no, Alex," Aunt Jean answered. "Don't think we'd ever presume to give away your hand or any other part of you. But she did tell us that she wanted to come up here this weekend, and ask you. We were thrilled."

"You're not the only ones," Alex said.

They drank champagne, and toasted the good news. Aunt Jean wanted them to set a date, of course, but Alex demurred. "We've waited 13 years to get this far, so I think we may take a few months to plan a party."

The next morning, when they woke up, Alex told Olivia she wanted to head home after lunch.

"Are you sure, sweetie?"

"Very sure," Alex answered. "This calls for a proper celebration."

* * *

They said their goodbyes after a huge lunch of lobster bisque and homemade bread. They'd been driving for about an hour when Alex veered off the highway at Norwalk, driving toward the waterfront.

"Where are we going, babe?"

"You'll see."

Soon after, they pulled up to a roadside motel that had definitely seen better days. Alex parked and ran in, was back to the car in less than five minutes.

Olivia was standing outside the car when she came back. "What are you up to, Alex?"

"I _know _how you love hotels," she said.

"Motel, in this case," Olivia corrected her.

"Semantics, babe," Alex cracked. "Hotel, motel, it's all the same to me."

"This one looks a bit deserted."

"It does," Alex agreed. "I like to think of it as _privacy_." She walked to room 14, beckoning Olivia with a wag of her finger. "Besides, I love old motels," she said, producing a small gold key on an enormous green keytag from her coat pocket. "No keycard." She opened the door, one try.

"Win/win," Olivia said, following her into the little room, only to be immediately pushed back against the door as it closed. Alex kissed her.

"Ma'am, I can't do this," Olivia said when the kiss ended. "I'm engaged."

"You're damn right you are," Alex said, as she began to remove their clothing, one piece at a time. "And I don't intend to let you forget it."

**#**


End file.
